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i 


SLOWLY HE WAS LET DOWN (1(96) 



ROSS GRANT 
TENDERFOOT 


JOHN GARLAND 

Illustrated by R. L. Boybr 




THE PENN PUBLISHING 
COMPANY PHILADELPHIA 
1915 


COPYRIGHT 
1915 BY 
THE PENN 
PUBLISHING 
COMPANY 



Ross Grant, Tenderfoot 



JUN 1 1915 

©aA40G087 


To 


Mr, and Mrs, C, H. Tewksbury 

whose life in the Wyoming Mountains has 
made Ross Grants Tenderfoot^ possible^ I 
cordially dedicate this book 


t 



Introduction 


When I went over the same route, some time 
before Ross Grant traveled it, from Cody eighty 
miles into the snow-capped Shoshones, I found 
how welcome a “ Doc Tenderfoot would be in the 
gold mining camp at the end of the route. There 
was, in camp, the superintendent of one of the 
mining companies, a man who had never had any 
instruction in things medical or surgical, but who, 
with a steady hand and a cool head, and an ac- 
quired knowledge of first aids,’^ was often called 
on in case of sickness and accident, as there was 
no doctor nearer than Cody. Such a state of af- 
fairs greeted Ross Grant when he arrived with his 
medical emergency chest and his real knowl- 
edge of the use to which its contents should be 
put. 

Also, I found a certain ‘‘ outfit of men, not 
McKenzie in name but in nature, waiting to 
‘‘jump certain valuable “ claims provided the 
owners failed in any particular to measure up to 
the requirements of the law. Their intention was 
5 


INTRODUCTION 


to do the “jumping” legally and not through 
“ gun play,” which is becoming an obsolete cus- 
tom in that great state. 

Then, too, I discovered over on a real Meadow 
Creek Valley — exactly the same place that Ross 
found — a real “ Dutch Weimer afflicted with 
snow-blindness, imprisoned for months at a time 
in the little valley because of the danger from 
snowslides on the mountainsides. 

And, by the way, if you should ever follow this 
same interesting trail from Cody up into the 
mountains, you would find Ross Grant, Tender- 
foot an accurate guide-book until you reached the 
end of the stage route. There you would find that 
Miners^ Camp is a fictitious name applied to a real 
place. And if you should chance to be in camp on 
the Fourth of July, you would realize fully the 
difficulties that Ross had to contend against in the 
vast snowfalls. For the year I visited the moun- 
tains the glorious Fourth was celebrated by snow- 
shoe races down the mountainsides I There are 
snow-storms every month in the year there, but 
Miners’ Camp is comparatively free from snow 
during August and September. 

These are the months, then, when gold hunters, 
“ prospectors,” are most numerous in the moun- 
tains. I saw them everywhere with their ‘‘ pack 
outfits ” bound on wooden saddles, seeking in the 
6 


INTRODUCTION 


rocks for indications of a fortune that is as elusive 
in their business as the proverbial pot of gold at 
the end of a rainbow/^ 

But, although Ross Grant did not immediately 
find a fortune, he found what is far more desirable, 
the development of muscle, quick wit and nerve 
in the situations which he was obliged to face and 
conquer in these adventure-breeding mountains. 

John Garland. 


7 






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Contents 


I. 

A Born Surgeon .... 

• 13 

II. 

A Steady Hand .... 

• 34 

III. 

Doc Tenderfoot in Action 

. 56 

IV. 

The Fourth Man .... 

. 78 

V. 

A Man Who Needed Bracing Up 

. 98 

VI. 

The Men of Meadow Creek . 

. 121 

VII. 

Half-Confidences .... 

. 140 

VIII. 

Ross’s “ Hired Man ”... 

. 159 

IX. 

Surprises ...... 

. 176 

X. 

A Newcomer on Meadow Creek 

. 197 

XI. 

Meadow Creek Valley Misses Leslie 

. 216 

XII. 

A Calamity Befalls Ross . 

• 236 

XIII. 

The Search ..... 

. 258 

XIV. 

A Perilous Journey .... 

• 277 

XV. 

A New Camp 

• 297, 

XVI. 

The Ingratitude of Weston . 

. 312 

XVII. 

A Random Shot .... 

• 33° 

XVIII. 

A Humiliating Discovery 

• 348 

XIX. 

An Unexpected Victory . 

• 363 


9 



\ 


Illustrations 


Slowly He Was Let Down . 

Map of the Meadow Creek Trail 
‘‘ What's the Latest Word ? " 

He Struck the Trail 
Beside the Dynamite Box 
Shielding His Eyes with One Hand 
The Snow Hid It from View . 

Map of the Crooked Trail . 

“ You've Paid for It " . 


Ross Grant, Tenderfoot 


Ross Grant, Tenderfoot 


CHAPTER I 

A BOEN SUEGEON 

De. Feed Geant, recalled in haste from his daily 
round of professional visits by a telephone message 
from his nephew, leaped out of his carriage over 
the yet moving wheel, and, stuffing an open letter 
into his pocket, rushed up the walk and into his 
office, which occupied a wing of his commodious 
house. 

A sight met his eyes which was not uncommon, 
situated as he was in the midst of the coal fields of 
Wyoming Valley in Pennsylvania. Stretched out 
on the leather couch lay a man from the mines, 
black and grimy, his right arm crushed. Two 
other miners, also blackened with coal-dust, sat on 
the edges of their chairs, their eyes following the 
movements of Ross Grant, the doctor’s nephew and 
self-constituted assistant. 

Those movements had been rapid and effective. 
Again and again had this seventeen-year-old boy 
been brought face to face with such cases as this, 
and he handled it promptly and wordlessly. 

13 


ROSS GRANT 


Words, indeed, would have been wasted, as none 
of his callers spoke English. He had quieted the 
sufferer with a hypodermic injection of morphine, 
stripped the injured arm, cleansed it, and treated 
it with a temporary dressing. 

Then, with the bandages firmly in place, he had 
gone to the telephone and patiently called up house 
after house until he found his uncle. 

When Dr. Grant entered the ofiice, he found 
Ross calmly taking the temperature of the wounded 
man. 

“ He must have met with the accident at least 
an hour before they got him here,^’ the boy ex- 
plained, “ for he was suffering awfully. I thought 
I ought to fix him up before trying to find you.'' 

His uncle nodded with satisfaction, and bent 
over the man. “ All right," he commended briefiy, 
but his tone said more. Words were not always 
necessary to an understanding between uncle and 
nephew. 

The younger man was an abridged edition of the 
older in form and feature. In movements the two 
were alike only so long as Ross was aiding the 
doctor on such an occasion as this. Then there 
were in both the same alertness and quiet intent- 
ness, the same compression of the lips and nar- 
rowing of the eyes. But when the strain of the 
hour was past and the miners gone, the boy's man- 
14 


TENDERFOOT 


ner changed. The alert quality which character- 
ized the uncle at all times seemed to desert the 
nephew, and his movements became slow. From 
the born surgeon in embryo he became a rather 
awkward, self-conscious boy. 

Throwing himself into a chair behind the table, 
he drew toward him Gray^s Anatomy,^’ and be- 
gan reading at a line marked by a paper-cutter, his 
closely cropped head grasped in both hands. 

The older man moved around the room rest- 
lessly, occasionally glancing with troubled eyes at 
the figure behind the table. Standing finally in 
front of the window, he drew the letter from his 
pocket, smoothed it out, and read it again. 

In front of him, in the valley, lay Pittston and 
Wilkes-Barre, with Scranton in the distance, and 
beyond, the sun-burned hills, almost hidden now 
by the smoke from a hundred coal-breakers, and 
by the late August haze. 

Ross,” began Dr. Grant abruptly, without turn- 
ing, I^m afraid you are going to meet disap- 
pointment — to a certain extent. I have a letter 
from your father.” 

The boy raised his head with a jerk. “ Do you 

mean that he forbids ” 

No,” — the doctor turned slowly, — not ex- 
actly. He expects to send for you in a few days, 
and will tell you himself.” 

15 


ROSS GRANT 

Ross's chin came up. ^'And I shall not be 
twenty-one for nearly four years yet!" he ex- 
claimed aggressively. 

His uncle looked at him with more sternness 
than he felt. Remember, Ross, that he is your 
father and that you owe him " 

Ross interrupted hotly, looking longingly at the 
letter. I don't owe him as much as I do you 
and Aunt Anne." 

Dr. Grant made no reply, nor did he share the 
letter. Putting it into an inner pocket, he left the 
office, and presently Ross heard the sound of wheels 
on the drive. Dr. Grant was starting again on his 
interrupted round of calls. 

The boy leaned back and drew a deep breath. 
His father was going to send for him, and would 
then tell him — what ? That he could not enter a 
medical college? That he could not become a 
surgeon ? That he must fit himself for a business 
career? His chin came up again. He looked 
around the office lingeringly. It had been the 
heart of his home for seven years. It represented 
to him all that he wished to become. His father 
was almost a stranger to him ; his uncle had stood 
in the place of a father since he, a sickly boy of 
twelve, had been sent from the city to gain health 
on the hills which girdle Wyoming Valley. 

He had gained health. In so far he had fulfilled 

i6 


TENDERFOOT 


his father’s wishes. But, in addition, he had 
gained a knowledge and been settled in a desire 
extremely displeasing to Ross Grant, Senior, who 
expected to train his only son to continue his own 
business. 

Grant & Grant ” was the father’s ambition ; 
“ Dr. Grant ” the son’s. 

Presently Dr. Grant’s wife appeared in the door- 
way of the office. She* was a short, round woman, 
with a laughing face and a pretty, bustling air of 
authority. Stopping abruptly, she shook a chubby 
forefinger at Ross. 

All day to-day,” she accused, “you have bent 
over that book.” 

Ross, his elbows planted on the table and his 
chin resting on his fists, shook his head. He did 
not look up. 

“ I’ve been studying Gray on Anatomy, Aunt 
Anne. Got to master him.” 

Aunt Anne bobbed energetically across the 
room, and slammed the volume shut. “ There I ” 
she cried triumphantly. “ Get out and walk five 
miles, and strengthen your own anatomy I ” 

Under her light tones and in the affectionate 
touch of her hand as she ran her fingers through 
his hair, Ross detected an undercurrent of solici- 
tude, which brought forth a counter-accusation. 
Rising hastily, he laid both hands on her 

17 


ROSS GRANT 

shoulders, and looked down from an altitude 
of five feet ten. 

Aunt Anne, you know what father wrote to 
uncle, don^t you ? 

Mrs. Grant's eyes fell. ^‘Better take a good 
run over the mountain, Ross," she parried. 

Ross's hands slipped from her shoulders. I 
see there's no use asking either of you what he 
wrote." 

Mrs. Grant flecked some dust from the table. 
“ Sometimes, Ross," was her only reply, disap- 
pointment is the very best and most strengthening 
tonic we can take." 

She turned away, adding without glancing back 
as she left the room : '' I do wish, Ross, that you'd 
get out and exercise more. You would conquer 
Gray's ' Anatomy '—and all other difficulties— 
more quickly if you would." 

“ I guess you're right. Aunt Anne," assented 
Ross. 

Yes, ' scolded Aunt Anne to her sister in the 
living-room — but the scolding rested on a very 
apparent foundation of love— Ross always agrees 
with me about taking vigorous exercise— and then 
never takes it. Now watch him walk, will you ? " 
she fretted, looking out of the window. 

Her sister, busily sewing, paused with suspended 
needle, and glanced out. Ross was going slowly 


TENDERFOOT 


down the drive, his head bent forward, his youth- 
ful shoulders carelessly sagging, his long arms 
aimlessly hanging, giving him a curiously helpless 
appearance at variance with his large frame. 

It's Ross's own fault," declared Aunt Anne. 
“ He doesn't like to exert himself physically. Not 
that he's lazy," defensively, for he isn't. He 
would work all night over a patient, and never 
think of himself ; but to get out and exercise for 
the sake of exercising, and straightening himself 
up, and holding himself, somehow — well, I've 
talked myself hoarse about it, and then found that 
he had been reading some medical book or other 
all the time I was talking ! " 

Here Aunt Anne laughed silently, and ran her 
shears through a length of gingham, adding, as if 
the addition were a logical sequence to her mon- 
ologue : 

“ It's a mystery to me how his father can feel so 
disappointed in him." 

'' Disappointed in Ross ? " exclaimed the sister 
in a tone of wonder. 

Mrs. Grant nodded. '' His father sends for him 
once a year, sees him for a day or two when Ross 
is at the greatest disadvantage in unaccustomed sur- 
roundings — you know the stepmother is a woman 
of fashion ; and the result is that he is so awkward 
and slow and tongue-tied that his father — well," 

19 


ROSS GRANT 

Mrs. Grant bit off her thread energetically, of 
coarse, we feel tender on the subject because we 
have had Ross now for seven years, and we think 
a better boy never lived. But now the time has 
come,'' her voice trembled, when we must give 
him up." 

Will his father forbid his going to medical 
college ? " asked the sister. 

Mrs. Grant hesitated. '‘No, I don't think he 
will forbid it; but he will prevent it — if he is 
able," she added significantly. 

Two days later the summons from Ross Grant, 
Senior, arrived in the shape of a telegram brief 
and to the point. " Take night-train," it read, 
“ September first. Reach office at nine." 

" Ross," worried Aunt Anne as she straightened 
his tie and hovered around him anxiously the 
afternoon of September first, " you'd better get a 
new hat in Scranton. This one is — well, I think 
you better appear before Mrs. Grant in a new one." 

" All right, aunt." 

Dr. Grant extended his hand, and gripped Ross's. 
" Remember, my boy, that the telegram appointed 
nine a. m. as the time for your appearing." 

Ross laughed. " Don't you worry, uncle," he 
returned confidently. " I shall be at the office 
before father gets there." 

But, despite his confidence, it was nearly ten the 
20 


TENDERFOOT 


morning following before he stepped out of the 
elevator of a Broadway office building and pre- 
sented himself hesitatingly before the clerk in his 
father^s outer office. 

His hesitation was due to his appearance. His 
hat, new the afternoon before, was soiled and 
pierced by the calk of a horse^s shoe. His shirt- 
front was also soiled and then smeared over by a 
wet cloth in a vain effort to remove the dirt. His 
right coat-sleeve was wrinkled, and bore marks of 
a recent wetting. About his clothes lingered a 
subtle horsy odor, which caused the clerk to 
sniff involuntarily as he curiously looked over the 
heir to the house of Grant before disappearing into 
the inner office. 

When he returned he bore the crisp message 
that Ross was to wait until his father had time to 
see him. 

Ross waited. He retreated to a window through 
which the sunshine streamed, and there sat, in- 
dustriously drying his wet sleeve. He pulled it, 
and smoothed it, and stretched it, only to see it 
shrivel and shrink while he waited. The clerk 
occasionally glanced with no abating of curiosity 
from the boy to the clock. Two hours passed. 
Others waiting in that outer office grew restless. 
They read. They took quick turns about the 
room. They went out into the corridor, and re- 
21 


ROSS GRANT 

turned. At last, one by one, they were ushered 
into the inner office, while Ross still waited. 

It was past twelve before his father sent for him, 
and the first glance the boy encountered was one 
of displeasure. 

Did you come in on the night-train ? was 
the elder Grant's greeting. 

Yes, sir." 

The father frowned, and looked up at a clock 
which ticked above their heads. 

“ I telegraphed you that I could see you at nine." 

Ross sank into a great padded, leather-uphol- 
stered chair. All about him were evidences of 
luxury, but he was conscious only of his father's 
displeasure and of his own disreputable appear- 
ance. He studied his hands awkwardly, and 
stumbled in his reply. 

“ I should have been here by nine, sir, but for 
an accident which occurred on the ferry " 

Accident? " His father's tone softened. 

Ross looked at his coat-sleeve. There was a 
fine horse, a big bay that stood behind a truckster's 
cart. He took an apple. It lodged in his throat, 
and he nearly choked to death." The boy hesitated 
and glanced up. I got it out," he explained 
simply, adding apologetically, ‘‘ I got awfully 
mussed up doing it, though." 

“ You I " Grant burst out, paying no attention to 
22 


TENDERFOOT 

the apology. “ You got it out I He leaned for- 
ward, genuinely interested. “ How did you do it ? 

Ross warmed under the interest in the tone. ‘‘ I 
was standing in the bow of the boat, just over the 
rail from the horse, and I saw what the trouble 
was. There was no one else who seemed to know 
what to do.” He spoke modestly. “ The horse 
would have died before we reached the landing ; 
and so,” simply, I ran my arm down his throat, 
and got the apple.” 

“ You did 1 ” ejaculated Grant. He leaned fur- 
ther forward. And what prevented the horse 
from chewing up your arm while you were after 
the apple ? ” 

A bootblack's brush,” Ross explained. A 
boy was rubbing up a man's shoes near me ; and I 
grabbed his brushes, and got busy. One of the 
deck hands helped me prop the horse's mouth 
open. I threw off my coat ” — here Ross sur- 
veyed himself ruefully, and left the subject of the 
horse ; and I got pretty dirty all over. Couldn't 
help it. There wasn't any time to think of keep- 
ing clean. But after we got over on the New York 
side the owner of the horse took me to a stable, 
and helped me to clean up ; but — I don't think 
it's much of a success.” 

Mr. Grant leaned back in his swivel chair, rested 
his elbows on the arms, and fitted his finger-tips 

23 


ROSS GRANT 

together. His imagination, country-trained in his 
youth, was supplying some of the details which 
his son had omitted. He nodded his iron-gray 
head, and narrowed his eyes, a trick common to 
all the Grants when intent on any subject. 

Quick work,” he remarked after a pause. His 
eyes were taking the measure of his son. It had 
to be quick work,” he added as if to convince 
himself that Ross could act swiftly. 

Where did you get breakfast ? ” was his next 
question. 

“ I haven^t had any,” Ross replied. I tried to 
get here by nine o^clock.” 

A low whistle escaped the father. He arose, 
and reached for his hat, which lay on the top 
of a safe behind him. We'll go out to lunch 
now.” 

Ross glanced doubtfully from his father's well- 
groomed person to his own dirty coat. 

Perhaps, father, you'd like me to go out alone 
so long as ” 

** Nonsense ! ” interrupted Grant brusquely. 

As they left the room, he took his boy's arm. 
There was little resemblance between the two. 
Ross had his uncle's head with its high brow and 
well-shaped chin, lean cheeks, and prominent ears. 
He was taller than his father, but wholly lacked 
his father's energetic manner and erect carriage. 

24 


TENDERFOOT 


** You graduated in June from Wyoming Semi- 
nary/’ the father stated as they entered a large 
Broadway restaurant and sat down near the door. 

Yes, sir.” 

“ No honors ? ” 

The boy’s eyes fell. No, sir. I stood tenth in 
a class of thirty-four.” 

Evasion of the truth was not one of Ross’s 
strong points. 

“ And,” stated his father, “ it took you five years 
to do a four years’ course.” 

Ross looked his father squarely in the eyes, and 
lifted his chin a little. The father noticed for the 
first time that the boy’s chin could indicate ag- 
gression. 

I flunked on mathematics. But I made them 
up the next summer, and went on.” 

Again Grant looked at his son attentively, the 
son who retrieved his failure and went on.” 

** You’re seventeen,” he said abruptly. What’s 
next ? ” The question, as both knew, was super- 
fluous. 

“ Medical college,” Ross answered as abruptly as 
the question had been put. ‘‘ I am preparing for 
the entrance examinations in the University of 
Pennsylvania. I want to go down and take them 
in January, and at the same time pass upon a 
couple of subjects in the freshman year.” 

25 


ROSS GRANT 

There was a gleam of curiosity in Grant's deep- 
set eyes as he put the next questions. 

Haven't I told you repeatedly that I shall 
never advance one penny on a medical education 
for you ? " 

Yes, sir." Ross's eyes met his father's stead- 
ily but respectfully. ‘‘And I shall not ask you 
to advance a cent." 

'‘But haven't I forbidden your uncle, also, to 
help you out ? " 

“ Yes, sir, and Uncle Fred has no intention of 
helping me. He'll keep the letter and the spirit 
of the law you have laid down." 

“ Well, then " 

Ross smiled quietly. “ But you have never for- 
bidden my getting a medical education through my 
own efforts ; and that, father, is what I intend to do." 

Ross Grant, Senior, found himself looking into 
eyes which he recognized as strangely like his 
own and shining with the same determination 
which in himself had established a thriving busi- 
ness and built up a moderate fortune. Never had 
he been so interested in his son. Never had he 
so coveted him for a business career. But, as he 
ate a moment in silence, young Ross's determined 
voice seemed to be repeating in old Ross's ears, 
“ That, father, is what I intend to do." 

During the remainder of the meal the elder 
26 


TENDERFOOT 


Grant listened attentively to the younger^s plans. 
To Ross this was a new experience. After the 
first irritation over his tardiness, his father had 
not once oppressed him with that sense of disap- 
proval and disappointment which usually sent 
him back to his uncle with a buoyant relief at 
his escape from New York. 

Still, he was not deceived. He knew that his 
father's summons had to do with the thwarting of 
his surgical career ; and he was prepared to argue, 
persuade, do anything short of actual defiance, to 
gain permission to work for the object toward 
which all his inclinations pulled. 

As they made their way up Broadway through 
the noon-hour crowd, a feminine voice behind 
them suddenly piped out excitedly : 

“There he is, Kate, right ahead of you — that 
tall, round-shouldered young man. He's the one 
I told you about on the ferry this morning. I tell 
you what, he made all the men around step lively 
for a few minutes." 

Ross suddenly quickened his pace. His face 
flushed uncomfortably, but the voice of “ Kate's " 
companion was still at his heels. 

“ Why, he grabbed them brushes and was over 
the rail as quick as a cat, and had that horse's 
mouth open before its owner even knew that k 
was chokin' " 


27 


ROSS GRANT 


Ross, Senior, strode along behind Ross, Junior, 
now in a vain attempt to keep up. He chuckled 
in a sly enjoyment of the boy’s embarrassment. 

He certainly can move, I see,” he muttered, 

when he has something to move toward— or 
away from ! ” 

But the mutter was lost on Ross seeking an 
escape from that voice of praise by dodging in and 
out among the crowd until his father lost sight of 
him, and found him again only at the entrance to 
the office building. 

When the two were again seated in the private 
office, the father for the first time broached the 
matter which he had called the son from Penn- 
sylvania to hear ; and, had he studied the boy for 
months, he could not have overcome his opposi- 
tion more tactfully and completely. 

Ross,” he began quietly, “ I am not going to 
forbid your going to a medical college this year or 
any other year. To be honest with you, I admire 
your grit. I believe it will bring you success. 
And so, as I say, I am not going to forbid your 
entering the University of Pennsylvania. But — I 
am going to ask a favor of you.” 

Ross’s eyes sparkled. His father swung around, 
and, picking up a pencil, marked aimlessly on a 
pad lying on the big mahogany desk. 

“ Well, father.” 


28 


TENDERFOOT 


I am going to ask you to help me pay a debt 
which I owe — and the payment will certainly spoil 
this year so far as college is concerned/' 

Grant paused. He did not look up, but he 
heard Ross draw a deep breath. Then there was 
silence. 

“ Keep in mind," Grant began again, that I am 
not requiring this of you — I am asking it." 

‘‘ Yes— sir." 

The tone gave the father the uncomfortable im- 
pression that ho was assisting at a surgical opera- 
tion on his son, but he bent his head a little lower 
over the pad, and traced figures more carefully as he 
began abruptly on a seemingly new subject. 

“ Have I ever told you about my Western 
partner, Jake Weimer ? " 

'' No, sir." 

Well, I started business in the West without a 
cent, and it was Weimer who gave me my start. 
He was running a store in Butte, and took me 
with him. I have managed to get beyond a start, 
but Weimer never has. After I came East he lost 
his share of our earnings, and turned prospector. 
Ever since he has spent his life trying to squeeze 
gold out of the mountains. Again and again he 
has staked out claims, and I've grub-staked him 
to the finish. For twenty-five years this has gone 
on. So far, none of the properties have amounted 
29 


ROSS GRANT 


to much ; still, we hold them ; there's always a 
chance of a rise in value." 

Grant drew straight, heavy lines on the pad as 
he told the story of his grub-staked partner. He 
fell easily into the vernacular of the gold-fields. 

“ Four years ago Weimer went prospecting 
among the Shoshones in Wyoming over near 
Yellowstone Park. There he began development 
work on some deserted claims, a few miles from 
Miners' Camp." 

Here Grant pulled a letter from his pocket, and 
consulted it. 

The claims, it seems," he continued, had 
been originally worked by two men named Allen 
and Waymart McKenzie. They did the required 
work for three years, and then threw up their job 
and left Wyoming. Now they're back again, 
wishing, evidently, that they had never left." 

Ross nodded. His eyes had not left his father's 
face. 

“ Weimer has felt from the first that he would 
make good on these claims. He has sent me 
quartz from time to time, and I've had it assayed. 
It carries moderately high values in gold, silver, 
and lead ; but, as the camp is eighty miles from a 
railroad, up among almost impassable mountains, 
where it's impossible to get the quartz to a smelter, 
I confess I have paid but little attention to Weimer's 
30 


TENDERFOOT 

work. It has seemed a waste of energy, despite his 
enthusiasm.’^ 

Grant suddenly threw himself back in his chair. 
His manner took on a keener edge, and his tone 
became brisker. 

But this year things bid fair to change there 
because the Burlington Railroad is surveying a 
line from Cody, and a boom is in prospect for next 
summer. Our claims have suddenly acquired a 
new importance ; they promise to become valuable.” 

“ Then,” commented Ross in a low, constrained 
tone, Weimer will get beyond a ‘ start ’ at last.” 

Grant regarded his son keenly. He did not 
answer the comment directly. 

According to the law of Wyoming,” he con- 
tinued, ‘‘one hundred dollars’ worth of work a 
year for five years must be done on a claim, or 
five hundred dollars’ worth all together within 
five years, before the tract can be patented, by 
which I mean before the owners can receive a clear 
title to it. Now, Weimer has done four years’ 
work all right ; but this year, the fifth and last in 
which he can hold the claims without fulfilling 
the conditions of work to the full, he is failing 
because of snow-blindness. It seems he had an 
attack last spring, and was obliged to stay in his 
cabin for weeks at a time instead of working.” 

Ross cleared his throat. “ And if he fails ” 

31 


ROSS GRANT 


‘‘ We lose the claims, and the McKenzies get 
them back/^ Grant again consulted the letter. 

Weimer got a man named Steele to write this — 
an Amos Steele in Miners^ Camp. He writes that 
the McKenzies are taking advantage of some 
technicalities in the law. They have already filed 
a claim on the tract based on their three years’ 
former occupancy. This will clear the way for 
them to take possession in case Weimer fails with 
the work. Steele goes on to say that, if the claims 
are saved, some one must come out and look after 
them — preferably some one with a personal interest 
in the property.” 

Mr. Grant laid the letter down, adding slowly. 
If you go, I shall give you a substantial personal 
interest.” 

There ensued a pause. Ross sat motionless. 
His gaze had left his father’s face, and was fixed 
on the rug. 

^‘Now, knowing,” Grant continued, ‘Hhat 
Weimer has set his heart on these claims, I can’t 
desert him. That work must be done and the 
claims patented.” 

There was another pause. Grant looked at his 
son expectantly, but still Ross neither moved nor 
spoke. 

'' Weimer is a good sort,” Grant went on tenta- 
tively. ‘‘You’d like Weimer. He’s a big man 
32 


TENDERFOOT 


and jolly in every pound of his avoirdupois. Great 
story-teller — stories worth listening to, what^s 
more. You wouldn’t be dull with him.” 

Grant leaned forward suddenly, and asked 
directly the question to which his son felt there 
could be but one reply in view of his father’s 
appeal. 

“ My boy, will you go ? ” 


33 


CHAPTER II 


A STEADY HAND 

In the two weeks which elapsed between Rosses 
visit to his father and his start for Wyoming he 
planned hopefully for the year. 

Father has given me a free hand/^ he told his 
uncle. “ As soon as I can get the work done and 
the claims patented I am at liberty to come back 
home, and I tell you I shall hustle. I shall hire 
as many men as are necessary in Miners^ Camp, 
and take ^em over to Meadow Creek, where the 
claims are located, and just rush that work 
through.^^ 

“ I wonder,^^ remarked Dr. Grant thoughtfully, 
“ why that man Weimer doesn^t hire it done in- 
stead of sending East for some one to manage the 
matter.’^ 

Ross frowned into the open grate before which 
the two were sitting. Why, uncle, I never 
thought of that, and father didn’t mention it. In 
fact, he knows but very little about Miners’ Camp 
or Weimer’s work, and you know he hasn’t seen 
Weimer in years. All he knows about the business 
34 


TENDERFOOT 


is contained in a letter that Weimer got a man 
named Amos Steele to write. Weimer, it seems, 
can’t use his eyes to read or write. The letter is 
very short. That man Steele is a mine-superin- 
tendent out there. Father knows about the com- 
pany which he works for.” 

'' The very idea,” cried Aunt Anne a few mo- 
ments later in tearful indignation, “ of Ross 
Grant’s sending that boy away out West to the 
jumping-off place into the wilderness without 
knowing the conditions into which he’s sending 
him ! It’s a shame. He’s our boy, and I don’t 
want him to go.” 

The doctor made no reply, but retired precipi- 
tately to the office, where he had occupied himself 
at intervals all day with fitting up an emergency 
chest for Ross. 

The chest was a little oblong, hair-covered strong 
trunk, which had held all of the doctor’s worldly 
possessions when, thirty years before, he had 
started to the medical college just as his brother, 
Ross’s father, had started West for his financial 
start.” Into this chest uncle and nephew fitted 
all sorts of objects medical, from books to bandages. 

When you’re eighty miles from a physician, 
Ross, and shut in by snow-drifted mountains at 
that, it’s well to have a few remedies and appli- 
ances on ‘hand.” 


35 


ROSS GRANT 


** And, when you^re several Sabbath days’ 
journey from civilization, with time to burn 
on your hands, it’s also well to have some light 
literature along,” laughed Ross, tucking into the 
chest Piersol’s “ Histology.” '' I intend to make 
my time count for myself, as well as for Weimer 
and father.” 

Aunt Anne, meantime, was packing another 
and more modern chest, her tears besprinkling the 
contents. 

I have put your winter shirts and chamois- 
skin vest right on top of the tray, Ross,” she 
sobbed as she bade him good-bye. You better 
put ’em on as soon as you reach the mountains, as 
it will be cold there.” 

All right, aunt ; I shall.” Ross’s voice was a 
little husky as he turned to his uncle. 

Dr. Grant was standing beside the vacated 
breakfast table absorbed in filling a glass of water. 
Carefully he brimmed it drop by drop. 

Aunt Anne peered through her tears. Why, 
Fred,” she exclaimed, “ what are you up to ? 
Don’t make Ross miss his train.” 

Calmly the doctor added a few more drops, and 
then turned to his nephew. His eyes narrowed 
intently as he motioned toward the glass. 

** I want to test your nerves, Ross. Hold it 
out,” he directed. 


36 


TENDERFOOT 


The boy smiled confidently, raised the glass, 
carried it from him the length of a long, steady 
arm, and held it there. Then he returned it to 
the table without spilling a drop. 

The doctor grasped the hand that had held the 
glass, looking earnestly into the boy’s eyes. 

“ Ross, the hand that holds the surgeon’s knife 
successfully must keep as steady as thisT 

For a long, silent moment uncle and nephew 
looked into each other’s faces as their hands 
gripped. Ross made no reply, but in the expres- 
sion which leaped to his eyes the older man read 
the resolution which satisfied him, and which 
seemed a part of this slow, steady nephew of his. 

An hour later the boy was being borne westward 
on the way to Chicago and the “jumping-off place 
into the wilderness.” 

At the same time his father sat behind his desk 
on Broadway reading a letter postmarked Cody, 
Wyo., and signed D. H. Leonard. It was written 
in reply to a recent communication from Ross 
Grant, Senior. 

“ Of course I shall be glad to do anything in 
my power for your son,” the letter read, “ along 
the lines you have suggested. I see the wisdom 
of your move, too. *It doesn’t always do to refuse 
a boy’s demands point-blank. It’s far better to 
turn him from his purpose as you are doing — or 
37 


ROSS GRANT 


trying to do, I should say, because, if young Ross 
is anything like old Ross, he will not be so easily 
turned. Yet, as you say, a little stirring up and 
jostling out of his uncle^s beaten tracks may put 
some new ideas into his head. This country cer- 
tainly bids fair to be stirring enough now to fasci- 
nate any young man. It’s a good idea also to give 
him a half-share in your share of the claims ; and 
I’m sure, if the railroad makes good its promise 
of a way up to Miners’ Camp, the claims will be 
worth working for. And, as a real estate dealer, 
I don’t need to be urged to do my best to interest 
him in the business of this vast land, the country 
of the future.” 

In Chicago a telegram overtook Ross. It was 
from his father. '' Stop overnight at Hotel Irma, 
Cody,” it read. Leonard will meet you there.” 

Two days later, early in the morning, the west 
bound express dropped Ross Grant and half a 
dozen other passengers at Toluca, in southern 
Montana, a station with a water-tank and some 
cattle corrals attached. Here stood the train which 
by day plied over the branch road to Cody, and 
by night returned to Toluca. It was a mixed 
train consisting of freight and express cars with a 
sleeper at the end. 

The half dozen passengers, reenforced by others 
left by the east bound express, all men, transferred 

38 


TENDERFOOT 


themselves to this coach. Every one except Ross 
seemed to be more or less acquainted with every 
one else. Ross sat silent, listening and looking 
out on as much of the great West as was visible 
from the slowly moving car. Across the wind- 
swept, sun-cracked plain grumbled the old engine. 
On either side were herds of cattle fattening on the 
dusty dried grass, which looked to Ross dead and 
worthless. Not a tree met his eyes, and not a 
house. 

Got the Western fever yet? drawled a voice 
behind him finally, and Ross looked around into 
the good-natured . face of a man who had boarded 
the north bound express at Omaha. 

Ross shook his head decidedly. There^s noth- 
ing here to give a fellow the Western fever, he 
returned, pointing to the fiat yellow plain over- 
laid by the dull yellow sunshine. 

The man lounged forward, his elbows on the 
back of Ross’s seat, and grinned. He was ap- 
parently about thirty, short and fair, with sandy 
hair and mustache. He wore corduroy trousers 
and coat, with a dark flannel shirt and turn-over 
collar under which was knotted carelessly a broad 
green silk tie. Hanging to the back of his head 
was a brown, broad-brimmed hat, the crown en- 
circled with a narrow band of intricately woven 
hair dyed in all the colors of the rainbow. 

39 


ROSS GRANT 


1^11 tell ye what^s out there that gives most of 
us the Western fever/^ he declared ; and that’s 
money prospects. Sort of a yellow fever, ye know, 
it is, except that no one wants to be cured.” 

Then I don’t want to catch it in the first 
place,” declared Ross, looking out of the window 
again. 

Presently some one in the rear of the car lowered 
a newspaper, and rumbled over the top of it : 

'' You fellers rec’lect old man Quinn ? ” 

Some did ; some did not. To the latter, the 
speaker explained. 

“ Used to live in Cody. Friend of Buffalo Bill, 
old man Quinn was. Went down to Oklahomy 
five years ago, and bought a sheep ranch. He 
and some of the cattlemen around him got by 
the ears over how much of the range belonged to 
the sheep ” 

Here an inarticulate murmur sounded through 
the car. There was a “cattle war” on in Wyo- 
ming at that time. 

“ Wall, one night two years ago about now, after 
a big round-up at North Fork, one thousand of 
old man Quinn’s sheep was driven over the bluffs 
into North Fork River. All that old man Quinn 
could find out was that four men done it. But 
he kept a-tryin’ to find out, and got a detective 
down from Kansas City, feller who used to be a 
40 


TENDERFOOT 


cow puncher himself ; and he nabbed three of ^em. 
They had had the gall to stay right there on the 
range all this time/^ 

Good reason/^ volunteered some one, why it 
took so long to land ^em. I suppose old man 
Quinn was lookin^ for ^em among the punchers 
that had left after the round-up.’^ 

“ Jest so,^^ declared the informant. “ He was 
tryin' to track up every one who cleared out after 
the round-up — jest so.’^ 

How long did they git ? ” asked some one 
further up the aisle. 

Two years.'^ 

Sandy, some one across the aisle said to the 
man behind Koss, “ wa’nT you down t^ Oklahomy 
punchin^ two year ago? 

There was a perceptible pause. Then a note of 
irritation spoke through Sandy’s drawl as he an- 
swered briefly, No, north Texas.” 

And, while the rest continued the discussion 
concerning old man Quinn, he leaned forward and 
devoted himself to Ross. 

Presently they came to the hills whose barren- 
ness and sombreness were relieved at intervals by 
the brilliant coloring of the rocks. 

“Well,” asked Sand}^ “what do ye think of 
this? It ain’t every day East that ye can walk 
around the crater of an old volcano.” 

41 


ROSS GRANT 


** Is this began Ross, his head out of the 

window. 

“ This is ! chuckled he of the sandy hair. 

The train was crawling slowly around the edge 
of a wide, shallow well, on all sides of which the 
hills frowned darkly, stripped of every vestige of 
verdure. 

“ An extinct volcano ! ” ejaculated Ross. 

Yep,^’ — the other sagged forward until his 
laughing face was close to Ross’s, — ‘‘ but just let 
me tell ye right here, young man, that volcanoes 
is the only thing in the West that’s extinct. 
Everything else is pretty lively.” 

Ross joined in the laugh which greeted this 
sally all around him. The man opposite lowered 
his paper, and looked over his glasses. 

Volcanoes and hopes, Sandy,” he amended 
quickly, instantly retiring again behind his paper. 

Ross did not understand the significance of the 
retort, but he noticed that several men around ex- 
changed glances and that Sandy’s face lost a frac- 
tion of its good nature. And when Sandy’s face 
lost its humorous expression, it was not pleasing. 

Dusk and Cody drew near together. The train 
dropped over the ** rim,” and steamed along 
through the Big Horn Basin, coming to a final 
standstill in front of another station and water- 
tank. 


42 


TENDERFOOT 


‘‘ Cody/’ announced the brakeman. “ All out.” 

Ross, suitcase in hand, his top-coat over his 
arm, stumbled out of the train, still swaying with 
the perpetual motion of the last few days. A big 
open wagon with side seats stood beside the plat- 
form. At the call of the driver Ross looked around 
interrogativel}^ at Sandy, who was still beside him. 

Oh, we’re two miles from the town yet,” 
Sandy replied to the look. “ Pile in. Train can’t 
make it over the shelves between here and Stinkin’ 
Water.” 

Ross silently piled in.” Sandy sat down beside 
him, and the wagon filled with the other passen- 
gers. 

Behind them, stretching back into the darkness, 
their heads sagging sleepily, was a row of teams, 
their neck-yokes joined by a chain, their heads 
connected by a single rein running through the 
ring at the left side of the bit. 

Hey, there,” called one of the men in the 
wagon, ** does Grasshopper strike the trail to-night 
for Meeteetse ? ” 

Yep,” came a voice beside a lantern which was 
traveling to and fro. There’s a lot of freight to 
pack up to Miners’ Camp ; and, if it gits there 
ahead of the snow, these freighters have got to hit 
the pike more rapid than they have been doin’.” 

A horseman dashed past the wagon and into the 
43 


ROSS GRANT 


circle of light from the lantern hung in front of 
the station. Dropping the reins to the ground, he 
swung his leather-enveloped legs off the horse, 
and yelled at the station agent : 

“ Have those boxes of apples come yet ? 

“Just here,^^ replied the holder of the moving 
light. 

“ Can^t you start ^em up by the Meeteetse stage 
to-night? demanded the newcomer. “ The boys 
are about famished.” 

“ Them surveyors,” complained the agent, “ are 
always hollerin^ for more grub. 'W no matter 
how much ye fill ^em, they donT go faster than 
molasses in January. Ain’t got beyond Sagehen 
Roost this minute, and they’ll probably be a-quit- 
tin’ in a month.” 

Ross pricked up his ears. The same interest 
was manifested by Sandy. 

“ Don’t you worry about our quitting,” the new- 
comer returned brusquely ; “ if the Burlington 
Railroad starts out to run a track up to Miners’ 
Camp, why, it will run one, that’s all, if the track 
has to go under snow-sheds all the way up from 
the Meadows.” 

At this point the big open bus rumbled off over 
the dust-choked “shelf” toward Cody. An un- 
wieldy swaying coach drawn by four horses passed 
them on its way to the station. 

44 


TENDERFOOT 

“ Meeteetse stage is late to-night/^ remarked 
Sandy. 

On rumbled the wagon. Its brake screamed 
against the wheel as the horses plunged down the 
steep inclines which marked the descent from one 
“ shelf to another. Presently a vile odor greeted 
Rosses nostrils, and at the same time the wagon 
struck the bridge over the sulphurated waters of the 
Shoshone, and began the climb on the other side. 

Ross was keenly alive to this strange new world 
in which the convenience of the East met the 
newness and crudeness of the West. Brilliant 
electric lights illuminated dust-deep, unpaved, un- 
sprinkled streets. Tents stood beside pretentious 
homes, and stone business blocks were rising be- 
side offices located in canvas wagons with rounded 
tops. And to and fro past the wagon flashed 
horsemen, cowboys dressed like Sandy except that 
their corduroy trousers were incased in leather 
chaps.^^ 

Sandy, watching Ross out of the corner of his 
eye, grinned at the boy's expression. 

'' Buck up here, tenderfoot," he advised good- 
naturedly. This here is ' The Irma ' ; and, if 
you've got any better hotels in the East, why, 
don't tell Colonel Cody of it, at any rate, for ‘ The 
Irma ' is the Colonel's pet." 

Then Ross found himself in the foyer of The 
45 


ROSS GRANT 

Irma/^ the hotel that “Buffalo Biir^ erected to 
honor his home town, which bears his name, a 
comfortable, modernly equipped house decorated 
with hundreds of paintings, water colors, and etch- 
ings, all picturing the scenes in Colonel Cody^s life 
as represented in his “ Wild West Show.” 

Sandy had registered in advance of Ross, and 
stepped to a swinging door at the end of the 
counter. There he stopped and turned back. 
“ Come on and have a drink, tenderfoot,” he in- 
vited good-naturedly. 

Ross was writing his name, and did not look 
up. “ No, thank you,” he returned quietly. “ I 
don’t drink.” 

Several men lounging about glanced curiously 
at the boy. Sandy thrust his hands into his 
pockets, and, leaning against the counter, looked 
at him in open interest. 

After Ross had registered, he drew a nickel from 
his pocket and laid it on the counter. “A two- 
cent stamp, please.” 

The clerk, impatient with the deliberation of 
his movements, cast the nickel hurriedly into 
the cash drawer and handed out a stamp. Ross 
waited for the change, while three men behind 
him pressed forward to the register. 

Sandy grinned broadly. “ There’s no change 
cornin’, tenderfoot,” he said with a chuckle. 

46 


TENDERFOOT 


“YouVe reached a land where nothin^ lessen a 
nickel can be got outside a post-office/' 

“ Pennies don't grow in the Rocky Mountains," 
added the clerk in a tone which plainly invited 
the boy to move on. 

The tone brought the blood to Ross's cheek. 
His eyes suddenly narrowed. His head went up, 
and his voice quickened and deepened. 

Very well, then," he returned coolly, ** give 
me another two-cent stamp and a postal card." 

Sandy patted his thigh softly. You'll pass, 
tenderfoot," he murmured. No flies on you — at 
least, they don't stick there." 

Ross took his trophies, and retired to a desk be- 
side the swinging door. Just as he had finished 
directing a letter to his Aunt Anne he noticed 
that his new friend was waiting again beside the 
counter. 

When the last man had registered, Sandy pulled 
the book toward him and leaned over it. Sud- 
denly he bent lower, and jabbed hard on the page 
with his forefinger. When he turned, all the good 
humor had dropped out of his face. With a glance 
of keen interest at the boy beside the desk he 
passed on into the barroom. 

So marked was the change in his manner that 
Ross paused in the act of dipping his pen into 
the ink-well. 


47 


ROSS GRANT 


** Guess 1^11 see who Sandy is/’ he thought, and, 
dropping his pen, crossed to the book. 

The name stared up at him in big bold letters 
directly above his own, but he had not noticed it 
at the time of registering. 

Allen McKenzie, Miners' Camp," 

Ross pursed his thin lips, and nearly whistled 
aloud as he returned to his desk. 

*‘It’s one of the McKenzies who are after our 
claims,” he wrote at the end of a long letter to his 
uncle and aunt ; ‘‘ but he is a funny, good-natured 
fellow. I partly like him and partly don’t. He 
has no six-shooter in sight — in fact, I’m told that 
six-shooters have gone more or less out of fashion 
in Wyoming ; and he doesn’t look a bit as I had 
imagined a * claim-jumper ’ would. But one thing 
he may reckon on ; there will be no chance for 
him or any one else to jump the Weimer-Grant 
claims in a few months.” 

And, sealing this confident declaration, he 
slipped the letter into the mail-box, ate a hearty 
dinner, and went to bed. 

The following morning at nine o’clock D. H. 
Leonard, his father’s old-time friend, appeared, 
and greeted the son most cordially. Mr, Leonard 
was a man of middle age, hale, red-faced, bald- 
headed, and wearing a “ boiled ” shirt and collar. 

48 


TENDERFOOT 


He was a dealer in real estate, with offices in both 
Cody and Basin. It was to his office that he first 
took Ross. 

We^ll go for a drive by and by,^^ he began, 
throwing himself back in his chair and toss- 
ing a cigar across the desk. We have the coun- 
try of the future here, and I want you to see 
it. Perfect gold-mine in this land once iPs irri- 
gated.^' . 

Ross picked up the cigar, played with it a 
moment, and laid it again on the desk, listening 
attentively. 

The older man drew a match across the wood- 
work beneath his chair, and lighted his cigar. 

It's the place for young men. Grant, a greater 
place than it was when Horace Greeley gave his 
advice to young men to go West — here's a match," 
he interrupted himself to say. 

Ross accepted the match, bit on the end of it a 
moment, and laid it beside the cigar. 

Don't you smoke ? " asked Leonard in some 
surprise. 

Before Ross could reply, some one called Mr. 
Leonard out into the hall. As the door closed 
behind him, Ross arose and stood silently in front 
of the open window. Beyond the little town and 
beyond the level stretch of shelves " arose the 
Big Horn Mountains, miles away, but so sharply 
49 


ROSS GRANT 


outlined in the clear air that they seemed only a 
short walk distant. 

As Ross leaned against the window-casing, some 
one in the room adjoining came to the open window. 
The stub of a cigar was thrown out, and a voice 
exclaimed : 

** But if Grant realized the situation, he^d never 
have sent a boy out here to look after those claims. 
And it looks as though it was his son — same 
initials. But with such a boy and Weimer you 
ought to be able 

The speaker left the window at this point, and 
Ross lost the rest of the sentence. In a few mo- 
ments, however, some one clattered through the 
hall and down the stairs, with spurs jingling. A 
horse stood on the street below, tethered only by 
its bridle-reins dangling to the ground. From the 
entrance to the building Sandy McKenzie emerged, 
clad as on the previous day, except for a colored 
handkerchief knotted about his neck. Mounting 
his pony, he touched a spur to its flank, and gal- 
loped away in a cloud of dust just as Leonard 
returned. 

Who^s in the next room ? ’’ asked Ross. 

“ Over on the right? asked Leonard carelessly. 
“ Oh, a lawyer has that office.’’ He crossed to the 
window, and glanced out just as McKenzie disap- 
peared. '' Evidently Sandy’s pulling out for the 
50 


TENDERFOOT 

mountains/^ he observed. Miners^ Camp, that 
is.” 

Are there only two McKenzies ? ” asked Ross. 

Leonard shrugged his shoulders. “ Two are all 
that have ever showed up around here — Sandy and 
Way mart; but they say there are half a dozen 
more brothers and cousins, some figurin^ under 
names not their own ; but where they put up I 
donT know.” 

Here he turned and looked curiously at Ross. 

I suppose your father told you that Sandy and 
Waymart are sitting up on Meadow Creek waiting 
to jump the Grant-Weimer claims.” 

“ Yes, he told me,” answered Ross, and hesitated. 

Do they use guns in the jumping process? ” 

Leonard laughed. Not much I They have 
other and safer methods of getting their own way 
in case Weimer doesn't do the work the law re- 
quires this year.” 

Then he glanced at the unsmoked cigar, and 
repeated his question of some time before. Don't 
you smoke ? ” 

Ross shook his head shortly. 

“ Why not ? ” Leonard looked at his old friend's 
son in friendly interest. 

Ross stretched out his right arm in an uncon- 
scious imitation of the test his uncle had required 
of him only a few mornings before. It's apt to 

51 


ROSS GRANT 

get on a fellow’s nerves/’ was all the reply he 
made. 

There was much to see during the day and much 
to hear. Leonard took the boy for a long drive 
up the canon of the Shoshone, whose densely green 
waters have a background of brilliant reds and 
yellows in the sandstone sides of the wall through 
which the river has cut. Up and yet up the 
carriage went, with the walls rising higher and 
higher on either side, the road a mere thread 
blasted out of the rocks, up to the great dam 
which was beginning to raise its head across the 
river bed to hold back the water and distribute it 
over Big Horn Basin through irrigating canals. 

Ross’s interest, however, during the drive was 
divided. He was glad to see the vast Shoshone 
Project,” as the government reservoir is called ; 
but his most active thoughts were following Sandy 
McKenzie on his way to Miners’ Camp, and his 
questions were of the Camp and Wyoming mining 
laws and the conditions he would meet in this new 
and strange land. 

But Leonard had never been up to Camp, and 
was not interested in mining, but in ranch lands ; 
therefore, Ross got but little enlightenment from 
him, and finally, ceasing to question, listened in 
silence while the older man, in obedience to the 
senior Grant’s request, did his best to interest 
52 


TENDERFOOT 

the junior Grant in the business prospects of 
Wyoming. 

I want you to come down to Basin at Christ- 
mas/^ Leonard said cordially as host and guest sat 
down to dinner in the dining-room of “ The Irma 
at six o^clock that night. My home is in Basin. 
It’s the county-seat of Big Horn County, you know ; 
and I want you to come down there. I want to 
show you more of this magnificent country.’’ 

Ross was grateful for this friendly invitation, but 
made no promises ; and presently the two were eat- 
ing in silence, Ross looking with interest on some 
of the contrasts which were too familiar for Leon- 
ard even to notice. 

Under elaborate and gaudy chandeliers was a 
bare and not overclean floor. Looking down on 
the thickest and heaviest of cracked china were 
pictures by well-known artists. Seated around the 
tables spread in linen, were bearded men in chaps 
and overalls, flannel shirts and spurs, together with 
those in tan oxfords and broadcloth. 

At the table opposite Ross, and facing him, was 
a man to whom his glance returned again and 
again. He sat alone. His square, unexpressive 
face was relieved by a pair of flne dark-brown eyes. 
The lower part of his face was covered by a stubby 
reddish beard. His hair was brown, and fell 
nearly to his eyes, giving him the appearance of 
53 


ROSS GRANT 


having a low forehead. He wore a coat, — the first 
of its kind Ross had seen, — a short, bulky affair, 
with a high collar laid over the shoulders and lined 
throughout with lambskin, the wool badly worn 
on the collar. His chaps were of undressed leather, 
with the long hair trimmed short save from the 
thigh to the ankle. High riding boots, spurs, and 
a sombrero, which he wore low over his forehead 
while eating, completed his costume. 

“ Who is he? ’’ asked Ross. 

Mr. Leonard shook his head. “ Man next me 
here said he rode in this afternoon on the Yellow- 
stone trail. Don’t know who he is.” 

As if he felt he was under discussion, the stranger 
raised his head, and his eyes met Ross’s in a quick 
furtive glance. 

After dinner Leonard gripped Ross’s hand in 
farewell, and left. An hour later there was a rat- 
tle of wheels in front of the hotel, the sound of 
horses’s hoofs, and a rollicking voice called : 

“ Meeteetse stage. All aboard ! ” 

Ross, with a glance around the office which he 
expected to see again before spring, picked up his 
bag, and went out on the piazza. Here he stood 
while his trunk and the emergency chest were 
swung up behind the stage and roped. Then he 
climbed up beside the driver, who was glad to have 
some one near to help him keep awake during the 
54 


TENDERFOOT 


long night ride, and they were ofif, only to be 
stopped almost immediately by a man standing in 
the doorway of a store. 

Hold up there ! ” shouted the man. Steele 
is here, and wants to go on to-night.” 

The name caught Rosses attention. Is it Amos 
Steele?” he asked the driver. 

The driver assented. ** Yep — superintendent of 
the Gale’s Ridge Mine up in Camp.” 

Ross leaned forward and surveyed with interest 
the pleasant-faced, well-dressed, squarely-built 
young man who came out of the store and climbed 
into the stage. In his pocket Ross had the letter 
Steele had written his father at Weimer’s request. 

“ Git out of this,” the driver requested briefly of 
his four bronchos as the stage door slammed to, 
and the four obligingly got out ” on a run. 

Just as they left the last house behind them, a 
figure on horseback whirled by in a cloud of dust, 
and Ross recognized in the sheepskin coat and 
hairy chaps the stranger who had attracted his at- 
tention during dinner. 


55 


CHAPTER III 


DOC TENDERFOOT IN ACTION 

Besides Steele, there were three other passengers 
inside the stage that night. One was the assistant 
manager of the Embar Ranch, south of Meeteetse. 
He had been to Omaha with a car-load of cattle. 
The remaining two were miners whom Steele had 
picked up in Butte. This much Ross learned from 
the driver. He learned many other things by 
listening to the conversation between Hillis, the 
manager, and Steele, although all the while he was 
keenly observant of his surroundings. 

The stage was bowling along smoothly over a 
road as level as a floor and flooded by brilliant 
moonlight. Behind them Cody faded into silvery 
mist, guarded by the huge shadowy bulks of the 
Big Horn Mountains. Ahead, houseless and tree- 
less, stretched the shelf until the shimmering mist 
cut off the sight. And in the distance, so far 
ahead that sometimes he blended with the mist, 
rode the horseman in the sheepskin coat. 

Hi, there, Andy,^^ called the ranch-manager ; 
** who is that fellow ahead ? 

56 


TENDERFOOT 

Andy, the driver, turned, and looked down 
through the open flap into the cavernous darkness 
of the stage. Don^t know. Didn^t find out. I 
have seen fellers, though, that can give more infor- 
mation about themselves per square inch than that 
same chap ahead there.” 

I never saw ^im in these parts before,” returned 
Hillis. 

Nor I.” The driver spat over the flank of the 
right wheeler. Gid^ep there, Suke, ye slowmy, 
you ! Hike it, old Blue ! Git out of this ! ” And, 
having thus jogged the energy of the leaders, Andy 
gave his attention again to Hillis. Hain^t ever 
set eyes on that brown chap before. I guessed 
back there he was bound fer Embar. Looks like 
a puncher.” 

'' I wish ” — the assistant manager of the Embar 
spoke forcefully — that he and seven or eight more 
were bound for the Embar.” 

Short of hands, eh ? ” questioned Andy, whirl- 
ing his black snake ” so skilfully that the lash 
missed the heads of the wheelers, and touched the 
flank of the nigh leader. 

Short of hands?” Steele broke in. *‘Who 
isn^t short of hands from Butte to Omaha — es- 
pecially in Wyoming? IVe been out two weeks 
advertising and hunting men, and here I am back 
again with two only.” 


57 


ROSS GRANT 


Ross turned half around in his high seat, and 
grasped the low back. Is labor as scarce as that 
in Miners^ Camp? ^^ he burst out in a brusque, as- 
tonished tone which betrayed a personal interest. 

As scarce as diamonds,^^ returned Steele, add- 
ing with a laugh, and almost as expensive.” 

Andy pushed back his hat, and surveyed his 
young companion with curiosity. There was a 
little stir in the coach also. 

It must be ” — Amos Steele spoke as if the 
matter had been debated before — that you are 
related to Ross Grant of New York.” 

Yes,” returned Ross, I am his son.” 

He was conscious of becoming an immediate 
centre of speculation. 

I wondered,” remarked Steele, when I saw 
your name on the hotel register. Going out to 
Camp, are you ? ” 

“ Yes,” Ross hesitated. In answer to that letter 
you wrote father for Mr. Weimer.” 

Oh ! ” Steele’s tone was edged with astonish- 
ment. 

Come out to see to the work, did ye ? ” asked 
Andy. 

Yes.” 

Andy glanced sidewise, and Ross caught the look 
of incredulity. 

** Expected to hire men to do it, did ye ? ” That 
58 


TENDERFOOT 



59 


ROSS GRANT 


Andy was a general information bureau was due 
to his faculty for asking questions. 

Yes, I do,” emphatically. 

The present tense of the reply did not escape the 
listener’s attention. 

Weimer has tried to hire,” volunteered Steele ; 
“ but it’s no use.” 

Why not?” demanded the boy. 

Well, in the first place, as I said, there hain’t 
enough men to supply the demand ; and, in the 
second place, no man in his senses is going away 
over on the Creek, where he’ll be shut in for 
months, when he can just as well stay down in 
Camp, and get the same wages.” 

Shut in for#months? ” repeated Ross slowly. 

Andy explained. “Along about first of Feb- 
ruary ye’re shut in fer sartain. Trail fills up, and 
there’s apt to be snowslides any time on old 
Crosby.” 

Ross sat with widening eyes staring out into 
the moonlight, and wondering with tightening 
muscles what he was “ up against.” The vague- 
ness of his father’s knowledge concerning Weimer’s 
work had not counted in Nev/ York. But here, 
swinging along toward Miners’ Camp with two- 
thirds of the width of the continent between him- 
self and his friends, Ross realized that this vague- 
ness had put him at a disadvantage. 

6o 


TENDERFOOT 


The two men behind him began discussing the 
cattle market, and the stage slid down the side of 
the first mesa of the Wyoming bad lands and into 
the coulee, or dry creek, at the bottom. The level 
road was left behind. Up hill and down plunged 
the horses ahead of the rocking, tipping stage. 
There was no regular road. A dozen tracks 
showed the differing routes of as many drivers. 
To Ross it seemed as if destruction were imminent 
every time they came to the top of one of the 
short, steep hills. But Andy jammed on the 
brake hard, and, giving a peculiar little whistle, 
yelled carelessly, Git out of this.^^ 

Presently Andy took advantage of the rattle of 
wheels and hoofs to say to Ross : Steele is boss 
of the Gale's Ridge work up to Camp. They keep 
open all winter ; t'other company shuts down." 

Shuts down ? " repeated Ross. 

Yep, has to. Men go down t' Cody t' work on 
the Project. Hard work to keep men in Camp 
through the winter. When the railroad goes up 
there, 'twill be different." 

Some one inside the stage struck a match. 

''On time, ain't you, Andy?" asked Steele's 
voice ; " it's twelve-thirty." 

" Yep," returned the driver. " Here's Dry 
Creek." 

The road, a well-defined track here, was hemmed 

6i 


ROSS GRANT 


in between a creek-bed on one hand and a hill on 
the other. On top of the hill, silhouetted against 
the star-studded sky, appeared a wagon with a 
white bellying canvas top. Around it, covering 
the hilltop and the side clear down to the track 
was a soft white moving mass that caused Ross to 
give a startled exclamation. 

Why — that looks like — it is sheep ! he ejacu- 
lated. “ Sheep by the hundreds.’^ 

Sheep^s the word I returned the driver. 

This is Sheepy’s layout. That^s his wagon up 
yon. He herds fer parties in Cody. There^s nigh 
seven hundred of them sheep. Never seen such a 
flock before, did ye ? 

Before Ross could reply, the stage swung around 
a corner of the hill and Andy, with a sharp 
whistle, drew up the leaders abruptly. They 
were in an open space in front of the stage camp, 
half cabin and half dugout driven into the hill- 
side. Beside the dugout was a low, stout corral, 
outside of which were a haystack and a jumble of 
bales of hay. As the stage stopped, the door of the 
dugout opened, and a man loomed large against 
a dim light within. 

But all this Ross did not notice at the time. His 
attention was riveted on the horse just ahead ridden 
by the stranger. Around and around it whirled, 
unmindful of the quirt and spur of the rider. 

62 


TENDERFOOT 


** Pretty ridinV^ remarked Andy, spitting ap- 
preciatively over the wheel. 

The men inside the stage clambered out with 
grunts at their stiffened limbs, and leaned against 
the wheels watching. The man in the doorway 
stepped out, and thrust his hands into his pockets, 
and looked calmly while the horse placed its four 
feet together and humped its back with a mo- 
mentum which sent the rider high in the air. 

When he came down, he settled himself in the 
saddle, drew up on the reins, and dug his spurs 
into the horse's flank. The animal, his nostrils 
distended and the foam flying from his mouth, 
without any warning rose on his hind legs, and 
threw himself backward. The rider freed one 
foot from the stirrup ; but the other caught, and 
horse and rider went down in a heap. There was 
a deep groan from both, and then silence. If the 
men had seemed indifferent before, they made up 
in activity now. With a flying leap Andy was 
down from his high seat. The stage-camp man 
rushed forward, and threw himself on the horse's 
head, while the others pulled the unconscious 
rider from beneath the animal's body. 

Leg's done for," Ross heard Steele say as they 
carried the wounded man into the dugout. 

Ross clambered awkwardly down from his seat, 
and followed. He nearly fell over an empty 

63 


ROSS GRANT 

chicken-coop and into the one little room of the 
dugout. 

“ Put 4m here,” directed the stage-camp man, 
whom the others called Hank. He pointed to the 
blankets in the corner from which he had crawled 
ten minutes before. 

Here, boy,” Steele said with pale-faced absorp- 
tion, “ smooth the blankets up.” 

Ross, half dazed by his strange and unexpected 
surroundings, slowly and clumsily did as he was 
directed, and they laid the unconscious stranger 
down carefully, his left leg hanging limply from a 
point half-way between knee and hip. Then the 
men straightened up, and looked at one another. 

A bad job,” muttered Hank. 

Take 4m back to Cody ? ” asked Steele. 

Hillis shook his head. Doctor there went to 
Thermopolis this morning.” 

Suddenly the daze which had beclouded Ross's 
brain cleared away. He woke up, and his whole 
attention focused itself on the prostrate man. In 
a moment he became alert, resourceful, and active. 
His boyish hesitation fell from him. He threw 
off his top-coat, tossed his cap with it to the un- 
covered board table, and, kneeling by the man's 
side, laid his ear on the heart. 

“ Go out,” he said authoritatively to the aston- 
ished men, ‘‘and bring in my smallest trunk. 

64 


TENDERFOOT 

Hurry, for this chap will be conscious in just a 
moment/^ 

No one stirred. 

Whipping out his jack-knife, Ross cut a strap 
which secured the chaps, and caught one leg at the 
ankle. “ Help me pull ^em off,” he cried urgently. 

Some one stooped to the other foot, and the 
chaps were off. Kneeling beside the wounded leg, 
with his knife, Ross ripped the trousers from ankle 
to thigh, and exposed a bloody wound. 

“ Compound fracture,” he exclaimed after a brief 
examination. 

Then he looked up. “ Whereas that chest ? ” he 
demanded. I must cleanse this and bandage it 
at once.” 

The cock-sureness of the boy’s tone and the 
sight of the skilful touch of his fingers on the 
wound galvanized the two miners into action, and 
in a moment the emergency chest was beside Ross. 

Hot water,” was his next command, as he 
fumbled with the key, ‘‘ and a small dish ” — his 
eye fell on the table — that salt cellar, with every 
grain of salt washed out. Quick ! ” 

The wounded man had recovered consciousness 
now, and was groaning, and clinching his fists, 
and rolling his head from side to side in agony. 

‘‘Are you a doctor?” asked Steele incredu- 
lously. 




ROSS GRANT 

** My uncle is/^ Ross returned briefly, and I^m 
going to he” 

The answer, coupled with a view of the contents 
of the chest and Rosses manipulation of those con- 
tents, brought relief to the men. 

He had produced a hypodermic syringe, and 
with a tiny morphine tablet dissolved in the salt 
cellar he began operations which lasted the greater 
part of two hours, and employed every man present. 

Bring in that hen-coop,’^ directed Ross ; ‘‘ we 
can use that for a double inclined plane to stretch 
the leg over.^^ 

Steele, who had so recently issued orders to a 
slow and clumsy boy, now quietly obeyed this 
embryo surgeon. Hillis was holding bandages, 
while Hank and Andy were doing something 
which filled their souls with wonder, namely, 
making long, narrow bags from grain sacks out of 
which wheat had been hastily dumped. 

By the great horn spoon, what’re these fer ? 
Andy demanded in an undertone, running the big 
needle deep into his thumb. Jehoshaphat ! 

Hank shook his head helplessly. He plumped 
a stick of wood into his rusty old stove, and re- 
filled a kettle from a water pail which stood on a 
box. Steele dragged in the triangular chicken- 
coop, and laid it beside the wounded man, who was 
moaning mechanically and drowsily now. 

66 


TENDERFOOT 


Ross arose, and set a bottle of alcohol on the ta- 
ble. He looked critically at the coop. ** The very 
thing, he muttered with eyes alight. “ How for- 
tunate that I fell over it coming in ! ” Then he 
paused in thought. 

Miners^ Camp and Meadow Creek were forgotten. 
Forgotten were Weimer and the neglected work. 
A “ case lay before him, a man needing the help 
that it was life for the boy to give. 

When, at last, the belated stage was ready to 
move on, the men, again in their overcoats, lined 
up and looked down at the sleeping patient. He 
lay with the knee of the wounded leg over the 
peak of the chicken-coop, padded thick and soft 
with blankets, the leg held secure and motionless 
between heavy sand-bags. Down the leg from knee 
to foot on either side ran strips of adhesive plaster 
with loops protruding below the foot. And attached 
to the loops was a small bag loaded with stone. 

To reduce the fracture,'' Ross explained briefly. 
He was on his knees, measuring the well leg with 
a tape measure from the haircloth trunk. See, 
this leg is longer now because the broken parts of 
the thigh bone in the other have been driven past 
each other, and the muscles have contracted, short- 
ening the leg. The weight on the foot will stretch 
the muscles and allow the ends of the bone to meet 
again." 


67 


ROSS GRANT 


** Jehoshaphat ! exclaimed Andy softly. He^s 
lucky to have you come trailin' down the pike just 
behind 'im. But see here, fellers," the driver 
turned to the others ; ‘‘yer Uncle Samuel will dock 
me this time sure, fer the mail won't reach Meeteetse 
in time fer the stage up to Miners' Camp ! " 
Miners' Camp I " 

The exclamation burst involuntarily from Ross. 
He arose. The tape measure dropped from his 
hands. He drew his hand across his wet forehead. 
He had seen the stage load prepare to go on with- 
out a thought that he ought to go also. His one 
idea had been the care of the nameless man on the 
blankets. 

Miners' Camp," he repeated ; why, I ought to 
go on ! " 

“ Not much," cried Hank in lively alarm. 
What 'ud I do with him and all that toggery ? " 
jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the chicken- 
coop. 

“ Of course," was Ross's decision in a low tone, 
I can't desert him — but I ought to go on." 

A few moments later, Andy's four bronchos 
pounded up the hill beyond the stage camp and 
disappeared, leaving Ross standing beside the win- 
dow watching. The man on the blankets breathed 
heavily. A big yellow cat purred around Ross's 
legs. Hank poked the fire. 

68 


TENDERFOOT 


Guess 1^11 rustle some grub now/^ the latter 
said in awkward solicitude. Ye’re all in, ain’t 
ye, Doc ? ” 

Ross turned from the window wearily without 
replying, and for the first time looked about the 
cabin. 

It was roughly boarded, with a hard dirt fioor. 
In addition to the bench, the only seats were boxes 
in which canned goods ” had been stored away. 
A pile of wood lay behind an old stove propped 
up on boxes in lieu of legs. A cupboard contain- 
ing some tin cups and thick plates, a few pans 
and skillets, and a shelf heaped with magazines 
half a year old completed the furnishings of the 
room. 

Suddenly Ross’s eyes lighted on the wounded 
man’s sheepskin coat, which had been cast hur- 
riedly aside on the fioor. Lifting it, he stepped to 
the door, and commenced to shake it energetically. 
Out of the breast pocket fell a small object. It hit 
the stone in front of the door with a metallic ring. 
Ross picked it up, and looked down into the pho- 
tographed face of a winning girl with smiling eyes, 
curved lips, and plump cheeks. The picture was 
a little oval set in a gilt frame. On the back in a 
girlish hand was written the inscription, To Lon 
Weston.” 

‘‘ Weston, huh ? ” came Hank’s voice at Ross’s 
69 


ROSS GRANT 


elbow. I never heard of Lon Weston before. 
Wonder where he hails from.” 

Hank glanced speculatively at the sleeper, then 
took a deep earthenware dish from the cupboard, 
beat its contents with a spoon, greased a skillet, 
and set it on the fire. 

“ Men fergot t' eat,” he grumbled, '' ^n' fergot t^ 
feed the horses. They fergot everything except 
him. They’ll be one hungry lot when they land 
in Meeteetse.” 

He raised the smoking skillet, and gave a deft 
toss, which sent the fiapjack spinning into the 
air, turned it over, and settled it back with the 
baked side uppermost. 

“ Nice-looking girl that I ” he muttered absently, 
immediately adding, ** Here ye are — flapjacks ’n’ 
coffee ! ” 

Late in the afternoon the injured man aroused 
himself groaning. He stared at Ross with eyes 
which gradually cleared as a realization of his 
environment was borne in on him. 

“ I say, Doc,” he muttered, biting his lips with 
the pain, I’m all to the bad, ain’t I ? ” 

Leg’s used up for a few days, that’s all, Mr. 
Weston,” returned Ross cheerfully. 

The man turned his head quickly. His eyes 
widened and he seemed to forget his pain. For a 
long moment he lay motionless looking from Ross 

70 


TENDERFOOT 

to Hank, who grinned hospitably at him from the 
stove. 

Cheer up down there,” said Hank in jovial 
strain, ** the worst is yet t’ come, fer I^m makin’ 
ye some puddin', and even my mother 'ud say 
that puddin’ ain^t one of my strong pints ! ” 

The sick man did not smile. He merely stared 
at the speaker until Hank disappeared, a water 
pail in hand, bound for the spring. Then he 
threw out a hand toward Ross and asked abruptly : 

Where did you get it? ” 

Ross, turning a flapjack awkwardly, looked in- 
quiringly over his shoulder. “ Get what? ” 

“ The name — Weston ? ” 

Ross smiled and then, partly because he was 
embarrassed and partly because he thought the 
injured man would be, turned his back before 
answering, picture fell out of your coat and 
I — we — saw the name written on the back, * Lon 
Weston.' ” 

There was no reply, and presently Ross added, 
“ I put the photo back in your pocket and hung 
the coat above your head there on the peg. Guess 
you can reach it.” 

Still no reply, and Ross, looking around, found 
his patient with head turned away, eyes closed and 
lips pressed tightly together in his beard. 

Suddenly, in the open doorway appeared a figure 

71 


ROSS GRANT 


that Ross had not seen before. A shaggy head 
was advanced cautiously within the cabin and 
'the owner peered at Weston curiously. Then, evi- 
dently understanding his closed eyes to mean 
sleep, the stranger backed out precipitately and 
sat down on the bench outside the door. From 
this vantage point he peered around the jamb from 
time to time eyeing Ross and his patient in turn. 

‘‘ Good-evening,’^ said the former as the stranger 
showed no signs of speaking. 

The shaggy head appeared in the doorway and 
nodding briefly, was withdrawn, just as Hank, 
coming with the water, called, Well, Sheepy, 
what’s the latest word up your way ? ” 

It was Luther, otherwise Sheepy,” the herder 
whose wagon crowned the adjacent hill. He was 
Hank’s daily caller. 

There ye are. Doc,” exclaimed Hank entering 
with the water. Puddin’ fer Weston, and flap- 
jacks ’n’ coffee fer you and me with cabbage ’n’ 
spuds thrown in. Fill up.” 

It was a menu which was not varied to any 
great extent in the days which followed, strange 
days for ‘'Doc Tenderfoot,” as Hank called Ross. 

Every night at midnight one of the two stages 
plying between Cody and Meeteetse stopped at the 
stage camp for supper and horse feed. Every noon 
the other stage stopped for dinner on its return 
72 





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trip. Between times, horsemen came and went, 
occasionally, men from the ranches on Wood River 
and the Grey Bull, miners “ packing their beds 
behind them, prospectors going out of the moun- 
tains for the winter, and every day during the 
first week there was Sheepy. Sheepy usually 
came toward night when his flock had been 
driven in from the range and rounded up by 
the faithful shepherd dog near the canvas-topped 
wagon. 

One day, the last of the week, after Ross had 
had a particularly trying time with his patient, he 
left the latter asleep, and going outside, sat on the 
bench in the sunshine watching Hank who was 
repairing the corral. Presently Sheepy joined him, 
first refreshing himself, as usual, with a long look 
at the snoring Weston. 

Once I seen a feller that rode like him and 
looked like him, only his hair and beard, Sheepy 
announced finally in a hoarse whisper. I seen 
'im ridin* in ahead of th’ stage that night, and I 
thought ^twas th^ other chap.'^ 

Ross listened without interest. Sheepy filled a 
pipe with deliberation and lighted it. Then, clasp- 
ing a worn knee in both hands he spoke again out 
of the corner of his mouth. 

That feller had hair light as tow and his face 
was clean of beard, but he rode the same and his 
73 


ROSS GRANT 


eyes was the same. He was a puncher off the 
cattle ranges. Used to ride past my wagon alone 
about once a week headin^ fer town. Went in the 
edge of the evenin^ always.” 

“ And where were you? ” asked Ross still with- 
out interest. 

“ Down in Oklahomy. I was herdin’ sheep fer 
old man Quinn.” 

Ross looked at Sheepy with new interest. I 
heard the men on the train talking about old man 
Quinn and the sheep that he lost. Were you there 
at that time ? ” 

-Sheepy nodded. I sartain was. That’s two 
years gone by.” 

And did you see what was going on — driving 
the sheep into the river, I mean ? ” questioned Ross 
eagerly. 

The sheep-herder shook his grizzled head. ‘‘ It 
wa’n’t off my range that the sheep was drove, but 
another feller’s called Happy. He seen there was 
four men done it. It was night — dark night, and 
they didn’t stop to say howdy ner make any intro- 
ductions. They shot Happy’s dog and got away 
over the bluff with a thousand sheep. They was 
drunk, all of ’em, but not too drunk not t’ know 
what they was doin’. Old man Quinn got three 
of ’em. He’s been after the other ever since.” 

Do you think he’ll be caught ? ” 

74 


TENDERFOOT 


Sheepy moved his shoulders helplessly. ** Don't 
know. Old man Quinn he never lets up on a 
thing. Took 'im two years t’ find three. Bet he 
don’t give t’other up.” 

Why did they drive the sheep over the bluff? ” 
asked Ross. 

Sheepy frowned. Cattlemen claimed the sheep 
had crossed the dead line. Cattlemen are always 
claimin’ that, and they push the line further and 
further in on the sheep and claim more of the 
range every year. They do here. They did down 
in Oklahomy. The sheep owners and cattlemen 
had a row at the big cattle round-up on the North 
Fork. It was after the round-up, when the cow 
punchers was feelin’ pretty gay and let themselves 
loose, that them four drove old man Quinn’s sheep 
over the bluff.” 

There was a pause, and then Sheepy went back 
to the original subject. The feller that looked 
like him and rode like him,” jerking his thumb 
over his shoulder, ** used to ride past when I was 
shakin' grub in my wagon. He used t' go grin- 
nin’ mostly and starin’ at his boss’ ears. And he 
alus went with his fixin’s on, tan chaps and a red 
silk ’kerchief ’round his neck and Indian gloves 
with these here colored gauntlets. Oh, he struck 
the trail in his good togs all right — bet he went t’ 
see some girl ’r other I ” 


75 


ROSS GRANT 


This was the last information that Ross received 
from Sheepy for several months. The following 
morning there arrived from Cody a supply wagon 
which replenished the sheep-herder^s larder, and 
then, the sheep having eaten the range bare for 
miles around the dugout, the canvas-topped wagon 
was attached to the supply wagon and drawn to 
another hilltop ten miles away. With it went 
Sheepy only faintly regretting the loss of com- 
panionship at the dugout. The seven hundred 
sheep that his dog rounded up and drove in ad- 
vance of the wagons were the companions with 
which he was best acquainted. 

** It wouldn^t ha* been a bad idee,** Hank re- 
marked when the last bleat died away in the dis- 
tance, if Sheepy could ha* stayed all winter. He 
ain*t generally long on talk — none of them herders 
be — but he was some one t* have around, and once 
in a while his tongue breaks loose.** 

Ross drew a long breath and thought of Meadow 
Creek. 

In the afternoon Hank resumed his repairs on 
the corral, leaving Weston asleep and Ross kneel- 
ing beside his medicine chest sorting its contents. 

The sorting done, the boy arose noiselessly and 
closed the lid of the chest. Then, turning, he 
looked down on the head of the sleeper. For the 
first time he noticed that Weston*s hair, thick and 
76 


TENDERFOOT 


unkempt, was dull in color and had a dead look 
at variance with its evident health. Tiptoeing 
across the floor he bent over the recumbent man 
and gently raising a lock of his hair looked won- 
deringly at the roots. The sight caused him to 
utter an exclamation which disturbed the sleeper. 
He straightened himself and stepped back precipi- 
tately. 

The hair was tow-colored at the roots. 


77 


CHAPTER IV 


THE FOURTH MAN 

Ross stood motionless until Weston, muttering 
and turning his head from side to side, gradually 
came to rest again and fell into a deeper sleep. Then 
the boy went outside and sat down on the bench. 

IPs easy enough to put two and two together,'' 
he muttered. 

Leaning forward, he dropped his elbows on his 
knees and taking his head between his hands, 
proceeded to do some adding satisfactory in its 
results. He longed for the presence of Sheepy. 
Now he would question him with interest on the 
subject of the puncher whose face was free from a 
beard and whose hair was tow color. He wanted 
more information on the subject of that cattle 
round-up and of the process of getting those three 
guilty cow punchers. Still, he believed that Sheepy 
had told him enough to make it clear that Weston 
was the fourth that old man Quinn was after. 

Some one that looked like Weston and rode 
like him," Ross enumerated the points in the evi- 
dence, only the man in Oklahoma had no beard 
and his hair was tow color." 

78 


TENDERFOOT 


What was easier than to grow a beard — the hair 
was already accounted for — it had been tow-colored 
before its owner stained it a chestnut brown. And 
why should he have colored it unless for purposes 
of disguise ? And why a disguise unless he was 
guilty of a crime such as driving old man Quinn's 
sheep into the North Fork ? 

At this point in his reasoning, another fact 
flashed into the boy's mind — the strange way in 
which Weston had acted about his name. 

Ha, ha I " exclaimed Ross aloud and then 
checked his voice. “ Probably he didn't want us 
to know his name, his real name," he thought. 

How all that dovetails together. If I could only 
get hold of Sheepy now I " 

On further reflection, however, he decided that 
Sheepy could throw no more light on the subject. 
It was evident that the herder did not know the 
name of the puncher who had ridden alone past 
his wagon, for he had not connected Weston's name 
with the other. Nor would Weston, if he were the 
same puncher, be likely to recognize Sheepy who, 
as he himself said, was in his wagon preparing 
supper when the puncher, his eyes on his horse's 
ears, passed. 

That night, when Ross rolled up in his blankets 
beside Weston he was sure he was lying beside the 
fourth cowboy of old man Quinn's search. But in 
79 


ROSS GRANT 


the cold clear dawn he was not so sure. It might 
have been vanity that had led Weston to stain his 
hair, tow not being a manly color. Then, too, even 
if he had been on the North Fork, so were dozens 
of other cow punchers. As to his name, Weston 
would naturally have been astonished at perfect 
strangers addressing him rightly where he believed 
himself unknown. 

Ross, eating his breakfast, and only half listen- 
ing to Hank, looked down at the prostrate man 
speculatively, his mind full of suspicion, but not 
so sure as on the previous day that there was no 
flaw in his reasoning. He had not had an oppor- 
tunity, the day before, of speaking to Hank about 
the matter, and now he decided to keep his suspi- 
cions to himself for the present. 

His suspicions, however, during the two weeks 
which followed, were swallowed up in the anxiety 
that attended this, the first “ case where he had 
been obliged to assume all responsibility. The 
care and interruptions to his rest wore on him. 
Never had one of Aunt Anne's hair mattresses in- 
vited sleep as did the blankets laid on the dirt 
floor when he found time to lie on them. Often 
he fell asleep sitting on the hard bench, his head 
on his arms crossed on the table, while Hank was 
frying flapjacks and boiling thick black coffee. 

As for the patient, he accepted Ross's ministra- 
8o 


TENDERFOOT 


tions with but few remarks. As his thigh bone 
began to knit, he became querulous, and finally 
passively enduring. 

'' When you goin^ to let me out of this ? he 
asked on the day when Ross last measured the 
injured leg. 

The boy settled back on his heels. “ I have 
sent for some plaster of Paris,'^ he explained, and, 
by the time it gets here, your leg will be healed 
and ready for a cast. Then you can be taken back 
to Cody and let the doctor there see you. If it was 
not for that ugly fracture you would have been out 
of here before. If you^d only have the Cody doc- 
tor to look you over now 

The man grunted, and worked restlessly at the 
sand-bag, which, on the outside of his leg, reached 
his armpit. 

“ Cody doctor be hanged I he remarked un- 
affably. “ He donT know half as much as you do.^^ 

It was the nearest approach to thanks or praise 
he had given Ross. 

^^That Cody doctor ainT worth shucks,^^ con- 
firmed Hank, who occupied a box beside the stove. 

He tended a feller that I knew, and let ^im die.^^ 
The speaker looked from Ross to his patient with 
an expression which plainly said that the former 
could not be guilty of any such charge. 

The brown eyes of the patient rolled slowly in 

8i 


ROSS GRANT 


their sockets until their gaze could rest on Ross. 
Then the lids dropped over them. The Cody 
doctor be hanged ! he remarked again more 
affably, and fell asleep. 

Ross continued to sit on his heels until his 
patient commenced to snore. Then he glanced at 
the occupant of the box seat and asked softly : 

** Hank, has Weston ever told you where he 
came from ? 

Nope,^^ responded Hank absently. “ Not where 
he hails from ner where he’s started fer, ner why, 
ner what fer. That’s nothin’ though, Doc.” Here 
Hank looked sidewise at Ross. You’ll find, if 
ye stay in these parts long, that there’s lots of 
men who ain’t partin’ with every fact they know 
within ten minutes after ye’re introduced to ’em. 
And you’ll find, too, that it ain’t always healthy to 
ask questions. Ye have th’ sort of sense who ye can 
question and who ye can’t.” 

And this fellow ” Ross jerked his head 

in the direction of the sleeper. 

Hank yawned and reached for the poker and a 
stick of wood. “ I ain’t aimin’ to inquire fer into 
his history — unless I could inquire of some one 
else besides himself, that is. Hello I ” he inter- 
rupted himself suddenly with the stick held over 
the stove. Who’s that hikin’ over the Creek ? ” 

Ross arose with alacrity and went to the door. 

82 


TENDERFOOT 


The first snow had fallen on the bad lands, but in 
an hour it had been whisked away by a warm 
northwest wind, leaving the ground soft and a 
little stream of water in Dry Creek across which 
rode a man who proved to be a prospector from 
the mountains. 

Must have had a bit of snow here,’’ he called 
as he turned his horse into the corral. Up t’ 
Miners' Camp it’s two inches deep and driftin’.” 

As this prospector was eating his dinner, he 
most unexpectedly gave Boss his first news of 
Weimer. The boy, finding Hank both intelligent 
and sympathetic, had talked freely concerning his 
mission in the mountains and his desire to return 
East at an early date. To the latter subject, in all 
its details of study and college-attendance. Hank 
listened and questioned in open interest. But, 
when Ross touched the subject of Weimer and the 
McKenzies, the other was non-cOmmittal and 
guarded, as became a landlord who might be 
called upon any day to serve flapjacks and coffee 
to all of the parties under discussion. 

“ I hope,” he had observed cautiously on two or 
three occasions, that you’ll get on all right with 
Uncle Jake Weimer.” 

And, although his tone implied a doubt, Ross 
could not prevail on him to explain it. 

But the prospector, who had ridden through 

83 


ROSS GRANT 


from the mountains, and knew nothing of Ross or 
of his origin, spoke more freely. He had passed 
along Meadow Creek but a few days before. 

Dutch Weimer,” he told Hank as he bolted 
boiled cabbage and flapjacks, “ was settin’ at the 
door of his shack, a-smokin^ as though his claims 
was all patented and secure. He says that Eastern 
pal of hisn is a-sendin^ some one t’ help 4m out.^’ 

Hank coughed behind his hand, and motioned 
toward Ross, busy with his patient ; but at first the 
prospector was too intent on his food to notice. 

And there,'^ he observed with a chuckle, are 
them two McKenzie boys a-settin’ on their claims 
next door and waitin’.^’ He gave another chuckle. 
‘‘ Curious how that snow-blindness should have 
touched Dutch Weimer.” 

Then he saw Hank’s restraining gesture, and 
paused. Glancing down, he met Lon Weston’s 
veiled brown eyes and Ross’s wide gray ones ; but 
the prospector had suddenly become as non-com- 
mittal as Hank himself, nor did Ross’s persistent 
questioning wring from him any further details. 
He had but passed that way, he assured Ross, had 
stopped but a moment in front of Weimer’s cabin 
and that was all. 

But what he had said was enough to leave Ross 
troubled, and impatient to start for Meadow Creek 
and his delayed work. 


84 


TENDERFOOT 


Finally the plaster of Paris came. The stage 
from Cody brought it one noon, and Ross’s spirits 
arose at the prospect of release from his unwelcome 
charge. 

“ If it wa’n’t fer yer Uncle Samuel’s long arm of 
the law, Doc,” the stage-driver informed him as 
he was disposing of potatoes and pork, I’d leave 
my stage right here and see ye wind all them stiff 
rags around that there leg. I’d like t’ see th’ 
finish s’ long as I seen the beginnin’. But the 
trouble with bein’ stage skinner is, ye’ve got t’ 
hike along no matter what shows ye come acrost 
on the trail. Hand them spuds acrost. Doc, will 
ye? Hank, if ye’d let ’em smell fire a minute ’r 
two mebby I could drive my fork inf ’em.” 

A few minutes later, he arose from the bench, 
drew the back of his hand across his mouth and 
addressed Weston. Wall, I suppose you’ll be 
ready f be boosted onto the stage when I come 
back in th’ mornin’ ? S’ long.” 

Scarcely had his four bronchos topped the hill 
on the further side of Dry Creek before a proces- 
sion, the like of which Ross had never seen, ap- 
peared on the trail the other side of the dugout. 
It was a pack outfit on horses accompanied by a 
man and a boy. It slowly rounded the shoulder 
of the hill behind the corral. The man rode ahead 
whistling gaily, his sombrero pulled low over his 

85 


ROSS GRANT 


eyes, a purple tie knotted under the turn-over col- 
lar of his flannel shirt. His horse’s tail was tied 
to a rope which, in turn, was tied loosely about the 
neck of the first pack animal. In similar fashion 
the flve bronchos were held together on the trail, 
and after them came a horse ridden by a boy about 
Ross’s height. On the pack animals were wooden 
saddles piled high with supplies for a camp, boxes 
and bags securely roped to the saddles. 

Hank, in the act of clearing the dishes from the 
bare board table, stopped with a platter of boiled 
turnip and pork suspended in the air. “ By the 
great horn spoon ! ” he yelled, if there don’t come 
Wishin’ Wilson ! And a pack outfit ! Is my eyes 
a-foolin’ me ? Doc, look out. Is it a five bronc 
outfit, or ain’t it? ” 

“ It certainly is,” confirmed Ross. 

He arose from his seat on the floor where he was 
working in the plaster and stepped to the door. 
But Hank was before him holding up the platter 
of food. 

Hey, there, Wishin’ ! Here’s some come-backs 
hot fer ye ! Where’d ye come from ? Where ye 
goin’ and what fer and how long and why and all 
the rest ? ” Evidently the newcomer was one of 
the kind that could safely be questioned, for Hank 
turned himself into a great interrogation point as 
he set the platter down, and rushing out, pulled 
86 


TENDERFOOT 

the stranger from his horse, shaking him in famil- 
iar bear play. 

Ross watched while the train filed slowly up to 
the dugout, bringing the boy^s mount to rest in 
front of the door. 

The young rider wore a new brown corduroy 
suit, and a long fur coat, the skirts of which were 
drawn up awkwardly above a pair of high riding 
boots and tucked under the rider's legs. A pair of 
shining silver spurs adorned the heels of the boots, 
while a sealskin cap crowned a head covered with 
closely cropped hair darker than Ross’s. His eyes 
also were darker and his figure, although of the 
same height, was more slender than Ross’s. He was 
also, apparently, a couple of years younger. 

The two boys nodded at each other, Ross with 
awkward cordiality and interest, the stranger 
carelessly and with unmistakable condescension. 
Swinging himself out of the saddle he said pleas- 
antly but commandingly : 

Take my coat inside, please.” 

He shed his fur coat and pulled off his fur-lined 
gloves and tossed both into Ross’s arms, while 
Hank, watching the proceeding out of the tail of 
an amused eye, talked with Wilson. 

Ross, biting his lips, backed into the shack and 
tossed coat and gloves on the end of the table near 
Weston. The boy, following his moves from the 

87 


ROSS GRANT 


doorway, pointed at the prostrate man, asking in 
a surprised and subdued voice : 

What ails him? 

Broke his leg,'' responded Ross shortly, not 
relishing the touch of lordliness in the other’s 
manner. 

“ How did he do it ? " demanded the stranger. 

“ Horse fell on him," answered Ross, and re- 
turned abruptly to his work with the plaster. 

Weston lay with his blanket drawn up to his 
chin and one arm thrown over his face and ear, 
his face turned to the wall. He was breathing 
regularly as though in sleep, although Ross knew 
he was wide awake. This was a favorite position 
with him when Hank was entertaining guests. It 
saved him the trouble of responding to inquiries, 
and, as Ross had come to suspect, might also serve 
to avert a chance recognition. 

Presently Wilson approached the dugout, leav- 
ing the boy in the corral rubbing down his mount. 
One arm was thrown in rough affection over Hank's 
shoulder while the two pulled each other about like 
two boys at play. 

I tell you, Hank I " Wilson exclaimed at the 
door, this is what ye might call God's country, 
and I always have a feelin' of gettin' home in these 
parts. But, Jehoshaphat! it didn't look a spell 
ago as if I'd ever strike the trail to the mountains 
88 


TENDERFOOT 


again. It looked like as if I^d have to throw up 
my claims and ” 

Sh ! interrupted Hank tiptoeing into the 
shack. Guess he^s asleep, ain^t he ? He ex- 
plained over his shoulder in a hoarse whisper. 

Chap named Weston that come this way three 
weeks ago and bust his leg out in front, here. 
Hoss fell on him.’^ 

Wilson, who followed at Hank^s heels, looked 
Weston over with friendly but detached interest. 

On the mend, is he ? asked the newcomer sub- 
duing his voice with difficulty. 

Hank forgot to continue his whisper. You 
bet ! ” he exclaimed heartily. Doc here is 
a-mendin’ him t^ beat anything I ever seen from a 
full sized doctor.'^ He jerked his thumb toward 
Ross. Doc's goin' to have him all plastered up 
and out of here to-morrow." 

Wishing looked at Ross with a pleasant nod, 
stepped over the bench and was about to seat him- 
self at the table when he bethought him suddenly 
of his riding companion. Leaning forward he 
looked out of the doorway. Then with a nod he 
sat down and forgetting that Weston was sup- 
posedly sleeping, raised his voice again to its 
normal high key. 

“ Fetch on them come-backs. Hank. My pard'll 
be here in a minute. I need t' git the start of him 
89 


ROSS GRANT 


in eating always, fer he ain’t long on grub such as 
we shake out here. I expect,” with an amused 
chuckle, that it ain’t exactly what he’s used to.” 

Hank slapped his knee and leaned forward. 

Say, Wishin’, how d’ye come t’ be hikin’ over 
the country with Queen Victory’s youngest? My 
eyes ! Ain’t he a reg’lar ornament t’ th’ land- 
scape ? ” 

Wishing Wilson laughed softly and then glanc- 
ing hastily from Ross to Weston, shook his head 
at Hank. ‘‘Less is all right!” he declared cau- 
tiously. “ He’s young yet. Lots of time to learn 
— more time ’n you and me have. Hank.” 

Hank set coffee before his guest, asking, “ Who 
is he and where does he hail from ? ” 

Wilson squared himself before the table, both 
arms resting thereon and began to eat noisily, talk- 
ing between knifefuls. 

“ Luckiest thing for me that ever struck the 
trail, that young feller is,” he began. “ I was 
stranded down in Omaha without a red cent in 
my pocket and no way of raisin’ one. If you’ll 
believe me I couldn’t find a man in Omaha with 
brains enough to believe in them claims of mine, 
no, not with the ore assay report before their eyes. 
I tell ye. Hank, times have changed down in 
Omaha. There wa’n’t no grub-stakers waitin’ 
around like there used to be fer prospectors to 
90 


TENDERFOOT 


snatch up — no, not one. And just as I was gettin' 
plum used up talking this young feller, Less 
Jones, fell onto me outer a clear sky. It was in a 
hotel where I went t' talk with a drummer, but 
not t' eat. Why, Hank, yer Uncle Wilson didn't 
have the price of a hotel dinner handy, and that 
drummer never treated me ! Well, I stood tryin' 
to persuade him that his salary was burning fer 
investment in my claims, when in comes Less and 
lined up 'longside me listenin'. I hadn't any 
kind of objection to his bearin', but he looked like 
such a cub that I never paid no attention t' 'im, 
but when the drummer said a final ‘ Nix,' Less he 
stepped up and asked me about the claims, and, t' 
make a long story short, before the end of the day 
I was hikin' over town hot footed on the trail of 
supplies with Less at my heels with an open 
pocketbook." 

** Does he stay up t' the Creek with you ? " asked 
Hank wonderingly. 

‘^Says he will," laughed Wilson. ‘^Says he's 
wanted for years t' try his luck with quartz ! " 
Must 'a' begun wantin' then when he was a 
baby," remarked Hank succinctly. Where's his 
ma and pa ? " 

Wishing shrugged his shoulders and balanced a 
quantity of pork and potatoes on the blade of his 
knife. Search me ! He. says there's no one to 

91 


ROSS GRANT 

bender him doin’ what he pleases, and so I take it 
he’s dropped out of some fairy orphanage som’ers 
where they have gold t’ burn. I’m failin’ on his 
neck more’ll I’m askin’ him questions that he don’t 
want t’ answer. Less is an all right sort, you’ll 
find, but he ain’t long on information.” 

At this point Wishing’s garrulity suffered an in- 
terruption from the entrance of his young partner. 

Leslie Jones walked' with the erect bearing that 
Aunt Anne coveted for Ross. Buttoning his short 
corduroy jacket over a soft flannel shirt, across the 
front of which was suspended a large gold chain, 
he ran his fingers around inside his collar and 
looked about impatiently. 

Ross, attending strictly to his work, did not 
look up. Hank, sitting on a bench opposite 
Wilson, spread his elbows yet further apart on the 
table and indicated a place beside him. 

Set down and fall to, young feller ! ” 

** I’ll wash up first,” returned Leslie in a tone 
which had a decided edge. His manner plainly 
indicated his desire to be waited on. 

Hank raised his eyebrows and waved a hand 
vaguely toward the stove. There’s pans ’n’ 
water. Help yerself. Guess there’s a towel hikin’ 
about som’ers in the corner. My dozen best hand- 
made ’uns ain’t come in yet from the laundry ! ” 
Every one laughed except Weston and Leslie. 

92 


TENDERFOOT 


The former breathed regularly, apparently uncon- 
scious of all that was said and done in the room. 
The latter flushed, and plunging into the corner 
tumbled the pans about angrily like a spoiled 
child, spilling as much water on the floor as he 
could. Then he sat down beside his partner and 
asked shortly for some hot coflee, with an emphasis 
on the adjective. 

Hank leisurely pushed the coflee-pot across the 
table. Help yer^lf. This was hot a spell ago 
and will be again kt supper time.^^ Hank’s voice 
having acquired ^an edge by this time, Victory’s 
youngest ” poured the coflee angrily but wordlessly 
into his thick cup and ate in silence, listening to 
Wilson, who w^s too much occupied with a vision 
of riches to come to allow such scenes to disturb 
his equanimity. 

As I told Less,” he went on, raising his voice 
to drown opposition, we’ll leave part of the sticks 
and the grub up the canon to the coal claims and 
then when it comes winter and the mountains are 
impassable, we’ll just strike the trail over from the 
Creek to the canon and work the coal till things 
open up in the spring. That Creek is a mean place 
to drop into this late.” 

What Creek ? ” asked Ross, suddenly awaken- 
ing to the conversation. 

“ Meadow Creek,” returned Wishing. 

93 


ROSS GRANT 


“ ThaVs where Doc is bound fer, WishinV^ 
volunteered Hank. “ Doc is come out t’ help 
Jake Weimer.” 

Wishing surveyed the boy with cordial eyes. 
** Jake Weimer, hey ? We’ll be neighbors, then. 
My claims ain’t two miles up the Creek.” 

Doc, he’s Grant’s boy,” supplemented Hank. 
“ But I bet my last year’s hat that he can’t mine 
it as well as he can doctor.” 

Doctor I ” exclaimed Leslie Jones curiously. 
“ Are you a doctor ? ” 

He’s fixed him up all right,” interrupted Hank 
pointing to Weston. Stretched his leg over my 
best chicken-coop and needled his arm and made 
’im walk a chalk line generally. Oh, I tell ye 
Doc is better than the Cody doctor.” 

Ross laughed. I know something about medi- 
cine and surgery,” he confessed. I’ve read and 
helped my uncle. Dr. Grant. That’s all.” 

All I ” echoed Leslie Jones. His manner was 
touched with disbelief as he looked from Weston 
to Ross. And did you, alone, set a leg ? ” 

Ross sought to change the subject. ** Aw — that’s 
not much — when you know how. I’m glad I’m 
to have neighbors up on Meadow Creek. Hope I 
don’t have to stay there any longer than you do.” 

Expect to clean up the title this year, do you ? ” 
asked Wilson. 


94 


TENDERFOOT 


That^s what I came for.” 

Well, all I can say now is that you’ll be mighty 
glad you come. I tell ye what, Doc, Meadow Creek 
is the mining deestrict of the future,” whereupon 
Wishing launched on a glowing account of the 
future of Meadow Creek claims as he saw the 
future. His eyes lighted up and he forgot to eat 
as he told of the wonderful value of the gold and 
silver that he expected to pull out of the claims he 
had staked the previous year. He believed so 
thoroughly in his own vision that even Ross, 
whose interests were far removed from gold min- 
ing, felt a thrill of expectancy as to the outcome 
of his work in Meadow Creek, while Leslie, whose 
appetite was slight for the coarse, ill-cooked food, 
dropped his fork to listen although he must have 
heard the recital many times before. 

Shortly after dinner, the two saddled up and 
departed in the order in which they had come. 

“ So long ! ” yelled Wilson, waving his hat. 
** We expect t’ strike it rich before a month.” 

Good luck ! ” shouted Hank and Ross together, 
the latter adding, I’ll see you again in a few days.” 

Hank, stuffing his hands into his pockets, pursed 
up his lips and whistled shortly as the pack outfit 
disappeared in a cloud of dust. 

‘‘If Wishin’ is cal’latin’ that he has enough 
there to last two men all winter he’s about as far 
95 


ROSS GRANT 


off in his cariations as — well, as Wishin' usually 
is. Wishin’ ain’t no lightnin’ cal’later on any 
subject, but he’s a mighty likely chap t’ have 
around.” 

“ Judging from the small amount his pard ate 
to-day he has food enough, I should say,” returned 
Ross, adding hastily, “ but then I realize that I 
know nothing about it.” 

Huh ! ” laughed Hank, “ he must know that 
when that there young chap has been in the 
mountings a few days he’ll eat mulligan ’n’ 
spotted pup ’n’ bacon with the best of ’em. His 
will be a good, lively cornin’ appetite — but huh I 
I should hate mightily t’ have t’ feed ’im. Wonder 
if Wishin’ has packed some bibs along ’n’ silk 
socks ’n’ hand-warmers I Huh ! ” 

When Ross reentered the cabin he found Weston 
staring out of the doorway, his arm stretched by 
his side. 

“ Guess you didn’t sleep much,” remarked Hank 
noisily gathering up the dishes. 

All I wanted to,” returned Weston shortly. 

Hank piled the dishes into a pan and poured 
boiling water over them. “ M-m,” he soliloquized, 
*^all the time I was lookin’ at him I was thinkin’ 
I’d seen that young Jones before. M-m — where, I 
wonder? ” 

No one answered, and he washed dishes in 
96 


TENDERFOOT 


silence while Ross returned to his work and 
Weston lay staring out-of-doors. 

The following day Ross saw his patient depart 
on the stage headed toward Cody, and prepared 
to take the next one himself in the opposite 
direction. 

When he assisted Weston out of the door of the 
dugout, he knew exactly as much about him as 
when he followed his prostrate figure in at the 
same door three weeke before — and no more, 
unless the name be excepted. 

Hank watched the stage off with a scowl, and 
then departed from his usual custom of cautious 
speech, where possible customers were concerned. 

** Guess that feller must ^a^ hailed from som^ers 
beside Wyoming,’^ he grumbled. ** Now, a Wyo- 
ming chap would ’a^ paid his bill, or if he was on 
the hog's back, he'd owned up and passed his 
promise. But that there maverick never even 
said, ‘ Thank ye,' to you or me ; and here you're 
knocked out of three weeks' work along of him, 
to say nothin' of the work day and night you've 
put in on 'im. Well, good riddance ; 'tain't no 
ways likely we'll set eyes on 'im again." 


97 


CHAPTER V 


A MAN WHO NEEDED BKACING UP 

The road to Miners^ Camp from Meeteetse, forty- 
five miles long, follows the Grey Bull to its junc- 
tion with Wood River. Thence it wanders along 
through miles of fertile ranch lands ; then, rising 
among the black foot-hills, up, up, it winds across 
the precipitous face of Jo-Jo Hill, and plunges 
among the snow-crowned Shoshones, crowded 
nearer and yet nearer to Wood River until finally 
there is but room for the narrow track and the 
narrow stream at the bottom of the deep canon. 

This was the road which Ross traveled the 
day following Weston^s departure for Cody, and 
traveled in increasing discomfort. The further 
they advanced among the mountains, the colder it 
became, until, finally, Ross was obliged to desert 
the high seat beside Bill Travers, the driver, and 
seek shelter inside the stage, but not until he 
had learned from Bill that there was no hotel in 
Miners’ Camp. 

In talking with Hank he had taken it for 
granted that there was a lodging house of some 


TENDERFOOT 

description and so had asked no questions on the 
subject. 

I pack my grub along/^ Bill assured him care- 
lessly, ^n^ roll up in a bunk in a shack that some 
one V other has left. If you've packed yer bed 
along, stay with me to-night. There's the floor,” 
hospitably, ** and I guess I can rustle grub enough 
fer both. Anyhow, there's two eatin'-houses where 
you could All up.” 

At flve in the afternoon the stage crawled 
through the dusk over a yielding bridge built 
of hemlock saplings creaking under their coating 
of ice and snow, and stopped in front of a shack 
out of whose open door glinted a welcome light. 
Another light appeared high up on the side of the 
mountain. 

Hold up there, Bill,” was the shout which had 
brought the stage to a standstill. Got a cold, 
hungry young chap inside there, name of Grant? 
Wishin' Wilson went through yesterday and said 
he'd be along with you to-day.” 

Ross recognized the voice as belonging to Steele, 
and, opening the stage door, answered for himself 
in the affirmative. 

Steele shook hands cordially. Better get out 
here. Grant,” he invited in an offhand way ; “ I 
have some beefsteak ready to fry, and the spuds 
are bakin' in the oven.” 


99 


ROSS GRANT 


Ross climbed out with as much alacrity as 
his cold, benumbed limbs would permit. But no 
sooner was he on the ground than something 
queer occurred. His legs gave every indication 
of doubling up under him, while his head felt 
as large and airy as a balloon. He clutched the 
wheel, but not until Steele had clutched him. 

Altitude I exclaimed Steele. Being a mile 
and a half above sea-level don’t agree with most 
people just at first.” 

Ross leaned against the wheel, looking up gid- 
dily at the strip of sky corralled between the 
towering summits of Dundee and Gale’s Ridge. It 
seemed to him that it was the mountains and not 
the altitude which oppressed him, and bore down 
upon him, and shut off his breath. 

My baggage,” he began hesitatingly to the 

stage-driver, where — if there’s no hotel ” 

But Steele interposed. Lend a hand here. 
Bill, with these trunks. I want Grant to put up 
at my hotel to-night, bag and baggage.” 

Bill grinned, and laid hands on the emergency 
chest. He’ll git a better layout than at my old 
shack, I tell ye I Say I Is Uncle Jake in Camp ? ” 
Steele shook his head. Nope. I’m going to 
see about packin’ Grant over to the Creek myself 
in a few days,” and a great wave of thankfulness 
surged over Ross. 


100 


TENDERFOOT 


A few moments later Steele waved his hand 
around the one room of his little log shack. 

This is the only kind of home you’ll find up 
here, Grant, about the same as Weimer has over on 
the Creek. Things are rough and ready here, 
without any frills.” 

As he spoke he glanced at the larger of Ross’s 
trunks. 

If Amos Steele understood one subject better 
than mining operations, that one subject was men. 
He saw in Ross an overgrown, homesick boy, with 
a stout but untested ‘‘ backbone.” 

And I wonder,” thought Steele, ** how far that 
backbone is going to take him when it gets a 
healthy development, and — how far is he goin’ to 
develop it ? ” 

Furthermore, Steele concluded, Ross was more 
accustomed to bending over a book than over a 
shovel ; and he shrugged his shoulders at the 
thought of the Weimer-Grant claims. 

“ His backbone can’t do everything,” he de- 
cided, ** no matter how stout it grows, especially 
when Weimer has lost his.” 

Steele’s shack was at the foot of Gale’s Ridge. 
Half-way up the mountainside was another and 
larger shack, where his miners, thirty in number, 
ate. Above that was the bunk-house ” where 
they slept. And yet higher up was the mouth of 

lOI 


ROSS GRANT 


the tunnel out of which the Gale's Ridge Mining 
Company expected to pull vast wealth when the 
Burlington Road had done its part. 

I'd rather bach it," Steele explained to Ross as 
they sat down to beefsteak and baked potatoes, 
than to be with the men. It's pleasanter for me 
— and," with a jolly laugh, “ for them also, I ex- 
pect." 

Ross liked this frank young superintendent who 
had so kindly taken him in. He felt that he 
must get his bearings in some way, and Steele was 
the man to set him right. 

Therefore quite early in the evening the boy 
burst out with : 

Mr. Steele, I've come to the conclusion that 
I'm the greenest tenderfoot that ever came to 
Wyoming. Now, you know the ropes here, and 
I don't. Will you advise me ? " 

“ That is exactly what I've been wanting to do," 
assented Steele ' swiftly and heartily. But I 
won't do it at all to-night. It'll take you a few 
days to get over your light-headedness, and until 
you do the trail around Crosby won't be healthy 
ridin' for you. Anyway, there's a lot to be done, 
for Uncle Jake Weimer hasn't laid in any winter 
supplies yet." 

Ross tipped his chair back against the unhewn 
logs, and thrust his hands into his pockets. Ever 
102 


TENDERFOOT 


since the talkative prospector had passed through 
the stage camp he had wondered what manner of 
man Weimer was. But not until he was jolting 
along in the stage that day did one sentence espe- 
cially recur to him in all its possible significance. 

The prospector had said, ^ Curious how that 
snow-blindness should have touched Dutch Wei- 
mer.^ 

Therefore, Rosses first question was of the man 
he had crossed the continent to help. 

The answer reached far into the night ; and when 
at last Ross, wrapped in his blankets, lay down in 
a bunk built against the wall, it was a long time 
before sleep came, tired as he was. 

The following evening, after a full day^s work, 
he sat down beside the little home-made table to 
write to Dr. Grant and Aunt Anne while Steele 
washed up the supper dishes. 

** I should be worse than helpless, were it not 
for Steele,’^ he wrote ; and even with him to help 
me I may as well own up I am in blue funk. Not 
a man is there to hire ; so the programme for the 
next few months seems to be this : Yours truly 
has got to put on some muscle, and buckle down 
to pick and shovel. Where do you think Pier- 
soTs ' Histology ^ is coming in, uncle, or that man 
Remsen ? 

“ But that’s not the worst. It seems that Wei- 
103 


ROSS GRANT 


mer isn^t as stout in his head as he was before he 
was stricken with snow-blindness, and, although 
he is as stout as ever in his muscles, he doesn^t 
take kindly to work any more. Hasn’t even taken 
the winter’s supplies of food and dynamite over to 
Meadow Creek. He’s just smoking his pipe in 
peace because of the man father is sending to help 
him out I But I can tell you that the peace is all 
on his side. 

The mountains here are the original packages, 
all right. They’re miles high, and look as if 
they’d topple over on a fellow with but half an 
excuse. And then the air — or the lack of it, 
rather ! I’ve not been able to walk any distance 
without a cane, so uncertain does this rare air 
make me in my motions. But Steele says I’ll get 
over that in a day or two. So, day after to-mor- 
row he is going with me to Meadow Creek with 
the Gale’s Ridge Company’s horses — we ‘ pack ’ 
over the supplies for the winter, and the emergency 
chest just as it is; but. Aunt Anne, only a small 
portion of the contents of my big trunk can go. 
Over on the Creek Steele can explain to me about 
the amount of work to be done, for fear Weimer 

doesn’t tell it straight ” 

Suddenly Ross stopped. He leaned back and 
bit his pencil, his eyes narrowing frowningly as 
he glanced over the letter. Then with a gesture 
104 


TENDERFOOT 


of disdain he caught up the sheets, and tore them 
into fragments. 

Steele paused in the act of placing the dishes in 
the rough cupboard which was nailed to the logs 
behind the stove. 

Well, I^d think twice before I tore up a letter 
— too hard work to write ^em.^' 

I have thought twice,^’ returned Ross emphat- 
ically. ** That^s why I tore it up. No use piling 
up all my difficulties on them first thing. Aunt 
Anne worries enough over my being here, as it is.^^ 
So there^s an ‘ Aunt Anne,' is there ? " mused 
Steele to himself over the dishes. He glanced at 
the bits of paper in a heap on the table. ** Good 
work she and that doctor uncle have done." He 
surveyed Ross's clean-cut, clear-eyed face as it bent 
above a second and brighter letter, one that ig- 
nored or made light of the difficulties oppressing 
the boy. 

In order to divert further the attention of the 
recipients, Ross also wrote divers pieces of informa- 
tion that he had learned from Steele. 

** 1 am trying to ferret out this gold mining busi- 
ness from the beginning," he wrote. ** I never got 
the hang of it before, and, if Mr. Steele wasn't 
everlasting patient with me, I wouldn't be getting 
much now, because everything is so new and 
strange here. I don't half understand the men's 
105 


ROSS GRANT 

lingo, because they have a strange name for every- 
thing. . . . Well, it seems that a gold mine 

up here is started in some such a way as this : along 
comes a prospector — quartz crazy, he is called if 
he^s in dead earnest — with a pick and shovel, a 
hammer and microscope, and a camp outfit. If 
some one else has provided him with food and the 
outfit he is ^ grub-staked ^ and his ^ pard ^ is enti- 
tled to half of the results of his work. Father, for 
instance, has grub-staked Weimer for years. This 
prospector pegs away at the rocks, getting speci- 
mens of ore and examining them under his micro- 
scope. He goes right past rocks that look to me 
full of gold they glitter so. No gold in such ! 
But when he finds some common, dull old stone 
that doesn't show up much to me but has all the 
earmarks of ^ a high value ' in gold, then he thinks 
he has found the outcropping of a good ‘ lead,' 
because all the rock that is behind that rock in 
the same strata is supposed to have that much gold 
in it or more. So there he ‘ stakes his claim.' 
You see I've got the hang of a few of the terms 
already. First, he drives a stake near the rock 
and leaves on it a paper with his name and the date 
and a notice that the land is his for so many feet 
each way. He can't take possession of more than 
six hundred feet one way and fifteen hundred the 
other in one claim, but he can stake off as many 
io6 


TENDERFOOT 


other claims right beside this first as he wants to. 
The staking is easy enough, but the tug of war 
comes in doing enough work to patent the claims I 
This means to get a deed of possession from the 
state. There is where Weimer and I are up against 
it — on the work side ! But guess Fd better not 
make your heads ache any more with such an 
accumulation of learned facts. Ill just say good- 
bye now and continue the headache in my 
next.’^ 

To his father he wrote a different kind of let- 
ter, a defense of his delay at Dry Creek. 

“ I couldnT desert a man in that shape,” he 
wrote, although I have lost three weeks at ex- 
actly the season of the year, I find, when three 
weeks count for the most. I'm sorry it happened 
that way, but I shall try to put in good time now 
and make up. Anyway, I guess the delay is as 
broad as it is long, because, if that accident hadn't 
occurred, I shouldn't have known Steele ; and it's 
his help that's smoothing things out here for me 
to begin work.” 

Ross did not know that the way he had con- 
ducted himself at Dry Creek was the cause of the 
very practical interest which Steele was taking in 
him. 

But not all of Steele's infiuence in Camp had se- 
cured a single laborer for Meadow Creek. Ross 
107 


ROSS GRANT 


found that Andy's explanation on the Cody stage 
held good. No one cared to go any further out of 
the world than Miners’ Camp. 

It’s bad enough,” one of the Mountain Com- 
pany’s men told Ross, up here eighty miles from 
the railroad, with a stage only three times a week 
in summer and any time it can get through in the 
winter. But, when it comes to workin’ on the 
Creek, 6a;cuse me ! Seven mile over Crosby, and 
the trail shut up half the year. No, I’m goin’ to 
Cody when the Mountain works shuts down.” 

The Gale’s Ridge Company worked all winter ; 
but the Mountain Company dismissed its em- 
ployees, twenty in number, when the deep snows 
came. 

To the twenty Ross applied in vain. Labor was 
dear and men scarce Cody way,” and the miners 
refused to be mewed up over on the Creek for five 
months at any price. 

You see,” Steele explained, I’d be glad to em- 
ploy all the twenty during the winter myself ; but 
not many of ’em will ever stay up here in Camp — 
too much cut off. I shall run short of hands all 
winter. Of course, when the railroad gets up here, 
it will be different. They’ll be willing to stay 
then.” 

Ross checked a groan. ** The railroad isn’t here, 
but I am,” he observed grimly. 

io8 


TENDERFOOIT 


Steele looked at him curiously. “ Why don^t 
you strike the trail back East,” he asked abruptly, 

since you started out without understanding the 
situation ? ” 

Ross glanced up in surprise. Why, I never 
thought of doing that ! ” he exclaimed, and dropped 
the subject. 

But Steele continued to look him over with a 
new interest ; for the stage the previous evening 
had brought to Steele a letter from the elder Grant 
asking for private information concerning the situ- 
ation Ross, Junior, was encountering. Ross’s brief 
letters from Dry Creek had shown Ross, Senior, 
that he had no real knowledge of the nature of the 
difficulties into which he had sent his son. 

The morning of the third day, Ross, staggering 
around uncertainly without a cane, aided Steele in 
binding the supplies on the wooden saddles of the 
packhorses. From the Gale’s Ridge Company’s 
supply-shack they brought sacks of flour and corn- 
meal, boxes of canned vegetables and condensed 
milk, sides of bacon and hams, bags of coffee and 
tea, all of which Steele with many a twist of the 
rope and half-hitch ” secured to the clumsy sad- 
dles. The trustiest horse carried the emergency 
chest. On Ross’s own horse, lashed behind his 
saddle, were his bed blankets and a bundle from 
the trunk Aunt Anne had packed with such care. 

109 


ROSS GRANT 


^^All ready?” called Steele, one foot in his 
stirrup. 

He looked back at Ross already mounted, bring- 
ing up the rear of the string of packhorses, stand- 
ing in front of the company's store. 

All ready,” shouted , Ross. 

Steele, about to swing himself up, hesitated. He 
glanced again at Ross. Then, dropping his bridle 
reins to the ground, he disappeared inside the 
store, emerging presently with a short rifle and a 
cartridge belt. 

Ever use a gun ? ” he asked. 

Ross hesitated. “ IVe practiced target shooting 
a little, and gone hunting a few times ; but,” can- 
didly, I don’t amount to shucks with a gun.” 

Steele grinned, and handed it up. “ Take it 
along,” he advised, “ and practice some more. It 
may bring you fresh meat. Sometimes elk and 
mountain sheep come down to the Creek to drink 
over there — won’t come amiss, anyhow.” 

Ross accepted the gun ; and Steele, going back 
to the head of the procession, mounted, and led 
the way up the canon, which presently broadened 
until it formed a snow-flecked valley a few rods 
wide. Here were a dozen shacks, another eating 
house, and the store of the Mountain Company. 
The mouth of its tunnel could be seen high on the 
side of the mountain above the store. 


no 


TENDERFOOT 


Immediately beyond this valley the cafion was 
nearly closed by two great peaks. The one on the 
left was still Dundee ; but on the right Gale^s Ridge 
gave place to Crosby, behind which lay Meadow 
Creek Valley. 

Zigzagging across the face of this mountain 
wound a narrow trail gradually ascending. Up 
and yet up climbed the horses until Ross clung 
to his saddle involuntarily while looking down. 
Soon Wood River became a thread, and the 
shacks became black doll-houses set in patches 
of snow. 

On the trail the snow lay deep in the hollows, 
but was swept away wherever the east wind could 
touch it. But, snow-filled or black, the trail ever 
ascended. The peak of Dundee opposite, which 
had seemed from the canon narrow and remote, 
stretched out now immense and so near that Ross 
felt he could hurl a stone across and hit it. 

He looked ahead. They were approaching the 
dizzy shoulder of Crosby. Steele rounded it, and 
disappeared. One by one the slow packhorses, 
their loads hitting against the rocks on the inside 
of the trail, crawled cautiously after, and also dis- 
appeared. Then before Ross opened a view of 
startling grandeur. He was looking out over the 
top of Gale's Ridge and down across Big Horn 
Basin, beyond Cody, eighty miles away and into 
111 


ROSS GRANT 


the blue heart of the Big Horn Mountains. The 
sight brought with it a pang of homesickness. 
Eighty miles from a railroad ! Eighty difficult, 
laborious miles ! Ross felt helpless and small and 
decidedly shaky in this strange new world about 
which he had so much to learn. 

Clinching his teeth hard together, he looked up. 
Above were bowlders seemingly glued to the al- 
most upright mountainside. Below — but Rosses 
head swam, and he turned his eyes to the inside 
of the trail, and clung to the saddle. Below was 
a sheer drop of a thousand feet down to the falls 
of Meadow Creek, which separated Crosby from 
Gale's Ridge. The mist came up in clouds rolling 
thick and frosty in the zero air. This was the 
quarter-mile of trail which cut Meadow Creek Val- 
ley off from Wood River Canon for months during 
the year. 

‘‘ Well," laughed Steele as they stopped where 
the trail widened beyond the dangerous shoulder, 
“ you didn't take a header, did you ? " 

Ross passed his hand across his forehead. His 
face was pale. “ No, but — I felt every minute that 
I'd go over." 

“ You'll get used to that," returned Steele easily. 
“ You see why that trail becomes impassable later, 
don't you? If it was just^the snow on the trail, 
why, that wouldn't count. You could shovel it 
112 


TENDERFOOT 


off around the shoulder, and go on snow-shoes the 
rest of the way. But, when the snow lodges up 
over the shoulder something like ten feet deep, 
and a chinook or warm wind comes along and 
loosens it, a footfall or a man calling might start 
it, and then Steele shrugged his shoulders. 

And there is no other way you can get into 
the Creek valley ? ” asked Ross. 

‘‘ No other way with a horse. You can follow 
the Creek toward its source, they say, a few miles 
and then across. Hunters go that way some- 
times, but on foot : and they have to scramble 
for it.^^ 

On and on they went over a wide trail now be- 
side the clear little Meadow Creek. Ross began to 
feel giddy again. 

Of course you do,’’ Steele explained the next 
time they made a stop, because the Creek is half 
a mile higher than the canon. But you get over 
that in a few days.” 

“ I wonder,” exclaimed Ross suddenly, how 
Leslie Jones stood that trail ? ” 

About the same as the average and ordinary 
mortal,” rejoined Steele sarcastically. But you’ll 
probably have a good many chances of finding out 
for yourself. You’ll be glad to see anybody, even 
young Jones I ” 

At last, after threading their way between spurs 

113 


ROSS GRANT 


and over bowlders and through valleys, they 
emerged on the other side of Crosby, and found 
themselves in a bowl the sides of which were 
formed by mountains so high and grim that Ross 
gasped for the breath that he felt the peaks would 
eventually shut off. 

It was a queer and uncomfortable feeling, this 
which the mountains gave him, a sense of being 
shut in and overpowered and helpless. 

The peaks on all sides were snow-heaped ; but 
the valley, protected as it was, showed patches of 
black earth. Sage-brush with scrub spruce and 
hemlock were the only vegetation of the valley 
visible, but the sides of the mountains showed a 
good growth of hemlock and pine trees reaching 
to timber line only a few hundred feet up. 

On the left at the foot of Crosby — whose back 
looked as high to Ross as its face, despite the fact 
that he was half a mile higher here than in the 
canon — two columns of smoke were ascending 
from two clusters of hemlocks a quarter of a 
mile apart. Toward these, Steele, drawing in his 
horse, pointed. 

The first is your layout,’^ he called back over 
his shoulder, the other is the McKenzies’ ! ” 

“ And where is Wilson’s ? ” asked Ross, eagerly. 

Steele faced in the opposite direction and indi- 
cated a narrow trail that led to the right, disap- 
114 


TENDERFOOT 


pearing in a forest of scrub pine which filled the 
ravine between two of the mountains that formed 
the rim of the bowl. ‘‘ Follow that trail and 
you’ll reach ’em. But ten to one, before you can 
do it they’ll follow the trail this way and reach 
you ! ” 

“ I hope so ! ” exclaimed Ross in a heartfelt 
tone. 

A few moments later he was face to face with 
Weimer. 

The latter stood in the doorway of a low log 
shack, his great hands cupped over large blue 
goggles through which his eyes showed dimly, 
the lids screwed together, leaving only slits for 
the admission of the dreaded glare of light from 
the snow. His hands were crusted with dirt. His 
face, bearded to the rim of the goggles, was grimy, 
and the beard matted. His hair hung uneven and 
uncombed to his thick rounded shoulders. He 
wore a colored flannel shirt, a sheepskin coat, and 
corduroy trousers thrust into the knee-high tops 
of old shoes. 

In response to Steele’s greeting and introduction 
Weimer extended his hand, peered at Ross a mo- 
ment, and then asked eagerly in a throaty, husky 
voice of Steele : 

“ D’ye pack any tobac’ over ? ” 

“ Lots of it,” cried Steele jovially. “ Enough 

115 


ROSS GRANT 

for your use and some for you to give to your 
neighbors.'^ 

Immediately Weimer’s sagging, middle-aged fig- 
ure became straight and stiff, and bis bigb fore- 
bead wrinkled in a heavy frown. 

Give dem McKenzies anyting ! Ven I do, it^ll 
be ven my name ain’t Shake Veimer.” 

Steele stepped quickly in front of the older man, 
and spoke forcefully. There’s one thing. Uncle 
Jake, that you’re givin’ ’em as fast as you can, 
and that’s these claims.” 

“ Nein I Nein I ” Weimer shouted. Das ist 
nicht so I ” 

His uneven black hair bobbed wildly about his 
shoulders. He pumped his powerful arms up and 
down as if the McKenzies were beneath them. 

Steele thrust his face near that of the agitated 
man, and demanded roughly, How many shots 
have you put since you were over to Camp to get 
me to write to young Grant’s father ? Say, now ! ” 

Weimer’s manner became cringing. He backed 

into the cabin. If your eyes ” he began, 

but Steele cut him short. 

You know you’ve not taken one pound of ore 
out of your tunnel since. You know you have sat 
around here waitin’ for Grant to send some one to 
help you out ” 

Weimer put up a great hand, and shrank back 

ii6 


TENDERFOOT 


as a child would have retreated before his mother’s 
upraised slipper. Steele followed him into the 
cabin, and Ross slowly followed Steele. 

The snow ist come,” whimpered Weimer ; 
und I can’t see ven the snow comes, und the 
tunnel so far ist to valk ” 

But Steele cut short his complaints sternly. 
“ Now,” he declared, “ all your excuses must come 
to an end. Here is some one to help. Young 
Grant here is going to put this work through, and 
you’ve got to brace up and help him. I should be 
ashamed to sit down and let a couple of McKenzies 
take away my claims.” 

At once Weimer became alert and combative. 
The McKenzies should not take the claims. 

‘'You see how it is,” Steele began as he, and 
Ross were carrying the cases of dynamite “ sticks ” 
up the trail to the tunnel in which Weimer was 
doing the assessment work for the four tracts to 
which he had laid claim. “ Mentally Weimer has 
become suddenly an old and childish man while 
retaining all his physical powers. He can do the 
work of two ordinary men if he can be made to 
work — and it’s up to you to compel him. Other- 
wise, by the first of next July, at the time when 
these claims ought to be patented, you will have 
to forfeit ’em.” 

Ross’s heart sank. “ The first of next July,” 
117 


ROSS GRANT 


and it was then but the middle of October I He 
laid the case of sticks down on the ore-dump, and, 
glancing up at the peaks which held him a 
prisoner, caught his breath in a gust of rebellion. 

At the mouth of the tunnel, some seven feet 
high and eight wide, was the dump,’^ to the edge 
of which ran a rusty track with a bumper ” at 
the end. The track extended into the tunnel. 
On it stood a lumbering vehicle, consisting of the 
trucks of a hand car, on which was fastened a 
home-made box to carry ore. 

This,’^ explained Steele, is a remnant of 
Weimer’s better days. There was no way to pack 
a regular car over here, and he devised this. He 
was a smart man until last year.^^ 

After dinner, which Weimer prepared, — Ross 
found him always ready to prepare food and eat 
it, — Steele suggested that they drop in ” on the 
McKenzies. 

Especially,’^ he added, his eyes scanning Ross’s 
face, after your meeting Sandy on the way to 
Cody.” 

Ross hesitated. “ I don’t know about that,” he 
objected, surprised that Steele should suggest such 
a thing. Wouldn’t it be a bit queer for me to 
call on my * friends the enemy ’ ? ” 

Steele laughed, but held strongly to his point. 

Not queer at all. There’s no object in not being 

, ii8 


TENDERFOOT 


on a speakin’-footing with he said. There^s 
nothing to be gained and a lot to be lost by openly 
recognizing what they're waiting for. You’re 
goin’ to get almighty lonesome up here,” — in- 
voluntarily Ross swallowed, and turned his face 
away, — and that Sandy McKenzie is good com- 
pany — on the surface. I can’t say as much for the 
other, Waymart, but he’ll pass.” 

The sun was shining warmly when they left 
Weimer’s cabin. The snow above the narrow 
loam-paved trail was melting and running in 
rivulets down to the creek. Overhead the spruce 
boughs met, and laced their green fingers together, 
sending down a damp, spicy odor. 

Near the McKenzie cabin Steele paused and 
looked up the mountainside. A few rods away 
the earth was thrown up around some tree stumps 
whose tops had been recently cut off. 

You see,” he explained in a low tone to Ross, 
** the McKenzies are supposed to be over here 
working some claims that they staked out last 
spring. But look there ! They haven’t got the 
discovery hole finished yet ! ” 

The discovery hole,” as Ross had learned, must 
be dug within thirty days after the staking of the 
claim, and is a name given to the ten feet of 
development work required by the law of Wyo- 
ming. This ten feet of digging may mark either 
119 


ROSS GRANT 


the commencement of a tunnel if the claim is 
located on the side of a mountain, or, if the claim 
is on level ground, the hole takes the form of a 
shaft driven perpendicularly into the earth. With 
a claim thus staked and developed, the owner 
may rest secure for one year without further work. 
Then, in order to hold the claim against any 
covetous claim “jumper he must do one hundred 
dollars^ worth of development work a year for five 
years in order to obtain a patent. If he has staked 
several adjacent claims, work for all may be done 
in one shaft or tunnel. 

Ross, merely glancing at the incomplete dis- 
covery hole, looked at the cabin from which the 
sound of voices issued. His gaze was doubtful, 
and his footsteps lagged. 

Seeing this, Steele walked on briskly, rapped on 
the sagging door, threw it open, and brought 
Ross reluctantly face to face with his “ friends the 
enemy.^^ 


120 


CHAPTER VI 


THE MEN OF MEADOW CEEEK 

Sandy McKenzie sat before a rough board table 
on which his elbows lazily rested, supporting half 
his weight. Sandy needed no gymnasium exer- 
cises to teach him relaxation. Before him were 
the remains of a hearty dinner, the chief dish of 
which smelled to Ross like beefsteak. From this 
dish from time to time Sandy forked bits of meat 
on which he leisurely chewed. 

He wore the same garb in which Ross had first 
seen !^him ; but the corduroy trousers were much 
the worse for wear and dirt, and it had been weeks 
since his face had felt a razor. His sandy hair 
also had increased in length, one thick lock per- 
petually dangling over his forehead. 

Waymart, an older and darker man than Sandy, 
lay in his bunk smoking, his knees drawn up and 
his hands clasped around them. Waymart was 
clean shaven, and his black hair was closely 
clipped. 

Both Sandy and Waymart were surprised to see 
Ross at their cabin door, but Sandy favored him 

I2I 


ROSS GRANT 


with a delighted grin. Rising without disturbing 
the box on which he had been sitting, he strad- 
dled across it, and held out a cordial hand. 

Hello, Tenderfoot, he shouted. ‘‘ I hear 
they^ve added Doc to that there name since I see 
you last.’’ 

Waymart crawled slowly out of his bunk. His 
black eyes met Ross’s an instant, and then slid 
away, the lids drooping. He held out a hand 
which, although larger than Sandy’s, lacked its 
cordial grip. 

“ Have some chairs,” Sandy invited gayly, kick- 
ing forward a couple of boxes. These here are 
our second-best plush, upholstered, mahogany af- 
fairs. The best are coming from Chicago when 
the Burlington Road gets into Camp.” 

There was about Sandy such an air of gay irre- 
sponsibility and cordiality that Ross brightened 
perceptibly. After all, his “ friends the enemy ” 
might not be bad neighbors, and he was glad he 
had allowed Steele to persuade him to come. 

Pushing his box away from the red-hot stove, 
he tipped it up on end, and sat down beside the 
only window the cabin afforded. Directly out- 
side, hanging to a tree, were the hind quarters of a 
beef, as Ross supposed at first glance. But, chanc- 
ing to glance down, he found himself looking at 
the head of an elk with great branching antlers, a 
122 


TENDERFOOT 


head such as he had seen at The Irma ” in Cody, 
credited to the marksmanship of Buffalo Bill. 

Last week,” he heard Waymart saying to 
Steele, “ we got him over near the Divide.” 

Ross opened his eyes in astonishment. “A 
week ! ” he exclaimed, glancing from the table to 
the meat hanging uncovered and unprotected out- 
side. 

Sandy caught the expression, and slapped his 
leg gleefully. Think that there meat ought to 
be off color by this time, donT ye. Doc ? Well, 
let me tell ye we’ll be eatin’ on it bangin’ just 
where it is until it’s gone ; and the last bite will 
be as good as the first.” 

Steele explained. The air up here cures meat, 
Grant, quite as well as brine. It takes meat a 
mighty long time to spoil — in fact, if it’s properly 
jerked, it never spoils.” 

* Jerked ’ ? ” interrogated Ross : but Sandy 
had launched into an account of their hunt over on 
the Divide, and no one explained the ‘^jerking” 
process then. 

As Sandy talked, his manner lost its laziness. 
He became animated, laughing and gesticulating 
constantly, and occasionally running his fingers 
through his hair and throwing the stray front lock 
back among its fellows. 

Waymart had lain back in his bunk again, and 
123 


ROSS GRANT 


unceremoniously elevated his knees, between 
which he glanced at Ross from time to time. He 
said but little, and smiled less. 

The two occupied a cabin similar to Weimer^s 
except that it was cleaner. In one corner was a 
heap of supplies, boxes of canned goods, and sacks 
of flour. Seeing Steele's eyes on these, Sandy ex- 
plained easily : 

Hain't packed over our winter's supplies yet 
except the sticks. Got a plenty of them, but 
grub's gettin' pretty low." 

Better hurry up, then," remarked Steele in a 
careless fashion. All the horses in Camp will be 
sent below in a couple of weeks." 

By ‘‘ below " he meant the ranches of Wood 
River Valley. 

Sandy pushed back his front lock. Time 
enough," he returned lightly. Everything can 
wait except game-huntin'. There's a flock of 
mountain sheep over on the north side of Crosby, 
and we're goin' to trail 'em to-morrow." Then 
he turned hospitably to Ross. ** Want to go 
along ? " 

Ross shook his head. ** I've — I've got to work," 
he stammered, embarrassed at being obliged to in- 
troduce the subject of work on the Weimer-Grant 
claims. 

He might have saved himself all embarrassment, 
124 


TENDERFOOT 


as the subject seemed to have no personal connection 
with the gay Sandy. 

‘‘ What/' he cried, “ in huntin'-season ? Wall, 
I've met other tenderfeet constituted like ye ; but 
they soon git over the fit, and so will you, I reckon. 
Brought a gun ? " 

“ Yes." 

You'll be out with us yet," declared Sandy. 

Sure," came from the bunk in tones of cer- 
tainty. 

Ross said nothing. 

When you bring down your first buck," pur- 
sued Sandy, unrufiled by the boy's silence, you'll 
begin to git the Western fever that ye said ye 
didn't want." Here Sandy chortled. Guess ye 
think ye're enough of a doctor t' cure that fever, 
but wait and see ! " 

As he said this, there was in the speaker's man- 
ner, or in his blue eyes or sandy-bearded face, a 
return of that subtle something which had caused 
Ross to decide that he partly liked him and 
partly didn't." 

'' I expect," said Steele laughingly, that Doc 
here will get as quartz crazy as Wishing Wilson is. 
Of course, you fellows have seen Wishing." 

Wishin' Wilson I " exclaimed Sandy and 
Waymart in one breath, Sandy adding, What do 
ye mean ? Whereabouts is Wishin' ? " 

125 


ROSS GRANT 

Well ! Well I How comes it you didn’t 
kno w ? ” exclaimed Steele wonderingly. Wishing 
is right up here in your midst. He’s holding 
down his claims this minute up yonder,” jerking 
his thumb over his shoulder. 

Sandy sat up and threw the lock out of his eyes. 

Back to stay ? ” he asked with his forehead 
puckering into a scowl. 

Steele nodded. ** Stay till the trail is shut up.” 

The scowl on Sandy’s forehead deepened. 

Thought Wishin’ was on the hog’s back. Last I 
knew he was tryin’ to sell out to a party in Omaha. 
When did he come? ” ' 

Waymart crawled out of his bunk again and 
lighted his pipe. We’ve been huntin’,” he ex- 
plained, ye know. Didn’t git back ’til yester- 
day. Place may be full of folks and we none the 
wiser ! ” 

I don’t think you’re crowded up here yet,” 
Steele rejoined. ** And Wishing didn’t come until 
— when was it? — only a few days ago, he and his 
new partner.” 

Pardner ? ” cried Sandy. 

Pardner ! ” echoed Waymart, holding his pipe 
in his hand. “ What pardner? ” 

Young chap,” replied Steele, about Doc’s 
height and — what age should you say. Doc?” 

** Probably seventeen,” returned Ross. ‘‘ Not 
126 


TENDERFOOT 


much over/’ adding, his name is Jones, Leslie 
Jones. He’s from Omaha.” 

Grub stake ? ” asked Waymart succinctly. 

More than that,” answered Steele. Jones is 
going to stay and help.” 

The scowl on Sandy’s forehead smoothed itself 
out. He grinned genially at Ross. I wonder 
now,” he mused, if there’s enough of us old goats 
up here in Meadow Creek to round up the kids 
and take care of ’em ! ” 

What about the kids taking care of the goats ? ” 
laughed Steele. Sometimes they’re bigger hus- 
tlers.” 

Sandy nodded lightly. ‘‘ This air’ll take the 
hustle out quick enough. Such high mountains 
as these hain’t made fer hustlers.” 

As Ross was returning with Steele to Weimer’s 
shack, the superintendent glanced at him side- 
wise. 

I don’t believe,” he said slowly, “ that the 
McKenzies intend to winter here. Of course, 
there’s no object in their stayin’. We all know 
they’re not here to work their claims, and it isn’t 
necessary to stay in order to watch yours ; and 
they’ve no winter supplies, nor,” thoughtfully, 
have they mud-chinked their cabin. You can 
see daylight anywhere between the logs. No, I 
don’t think they have any intention of staying.” 

127 


ROSS GRANT 


Ross looked around the tiny valley, with its 
fringe of windy, inaccessible peaks, and thought 
of the long months ahead of him, shut in among 
those cruelly cold mountains. 

I hope they stay I he declared fervently. 

An hour later, having talked over the situation 
with Ross thoroughly, explained the amount of 
work necessary to be done in the tunnel, and 
given Weimer large chunks of advice, Steele rode 
away, driving his packhorses in front of him. 

Ross watched him out of sight and then entered 
the shack whistling to keep his courage up. 
Inside he surveyed his temporary home with a 
shiver which stopped the whistle. Uncle Jake,” 
he suggested, let's clean house the rest of the 
day. Willing?” 

Weimer, sitting on a box in front of the stove, 
assented without removing the pipe from his lips. 

Ja, clean up all you vant to. I tink your fader 
was alvays vantin' to clean mit der house.” 

Think of my father's ever cleaning out a cabin 
like this ! ” muttered Ross. 

He stood helplessly in front of the door looking 
from the complacently smoking Weimer to the 
bags and boxes heaped on the floor and then 
around the dirt-encrusted room. He thought of 
Aunt Anne and her perfectly kept house with a 
great throb of homesickness. Then he thought of 
128 


TENDERFOOT 


his father, who had got his start under such con- 
ditions as these and suddenly threw otf his coat. 

‘‘ It^s got to be done,” he said aloud, “ and I’ve 
got to do it ! ” 

Vat ? ” asked Weimer stupidly turning his gog- 
gles in Ross’s direction. Weimer was hugging his 
knees in a state of blissful content, the smoke from 
his pipe curling about his head and almost shut- 
ting from view the big young man on whose 
shoulders he had already shifted all burdens con- 
nected with the Grant- Weimer claims. 

During the remainder of the day Ross worked 
cleaning up the cabin and packing away their 
winter supplies. When night came his bunk 
looked better to him than the supper which Wei- 
mer was preparing, and he dropped asleep sitting 
beside the table waiting for the flapjacks. But, 
instead of turning in directly after washing the 
supper dishes, as he had intended, he was forced 
to keep awake until nine o’clock entertaining the 
denizens of Meadow Creek Valley. 

The McKenzies came over first. Weimer, who, 
when night approached, had removed his goggles, 
saw them coming first and raised his voice in 
protest. 

“ Ach I dem McKenzies ! See here, poy, dey 
mustn’t come mit my cabin. Dey ist after dese 
claims. Vorstehen sie nicht? ” 

129 


ROSS GRANT 


Yes, yes, Uncle Jake, I understand,'^ Ross re- 
turned soothingly. But they can't carry the 
claims away in their pockets to-night, and to-mor- 
row morning we are going to bone down to work 
at such a rate that they'll come up missing on 
their calculations altogether." 

At the mention of work, Weimer groaned and 
retiring precipitately to his bunk lay there regard- 
ing the doorway hostilely through the smoke from 
his pipe. The next minute the doorway framed 
Sandy with Waymart close behind. 

Hello, Doc I " Sandy pushed his cap to the 
back of his head. Mart and I, we've started out 
fer to pay our respects to Wishin’ Wilson. Want 
t' hike along with us ? " 

Ross shrugged his shoulders and sat down on 
one end of the table, dish-cloth in hand. “ Guess 
I've had hiking enough for one day, McKenzie. 
Let's see. It's two miles up there, isn't it ? " 

“ Yep ; " Sandy lounged in and sat down on a 
box. And by th' same sign it's two miles back. 
But, gosh, young man, a matter of four mile ain't 
nothin' in this country ! " He surveyed Ross 
curiously. “ How d'ye travel East ? In a push 
cart? " 

Ross grinned but flushed. The trip over from 
Camp was on rather higher ground than I've ever 
seen before and it — well — it winded me," frankly. 
130 


TENDERFOOT 


And this afternoon IVe been hoeing out here. 
So I’m not exactly as fresh as a morning glory to- 
night.” 

Waymart came inside and looked around. Ross 
pushed a box in his direction and, after a mo- 
ment’s hesitation and a civil nod in the direction 
of the bunk, the older McKenzie sat down and 
pulled his pipe out of his pocket. 

‘‘ Ha, ha ! ” laughed Sandy. When you’re a 
few months further away from Pennsylvany you’ll 
forgit that a shack needs a hoe, t’ say nothin’ of a 
broom.” Then he addressed the bunk without 
looking toward it. Uncle Jake, have you seen 
Wishin’ ? ” 

Ja,” growled Weimer uncivilly, “ dat I have.” 

“ How did he look ? ” smiled Sandy who seemed 
to enjoy the other’s grouch.” 

Look ? ” violently. Vy, how should he look 
but shust like himself ! ” 

Waymart chuckled, and Sandy was about to re- 
ply when footsteps were heard drawing near. 
Heavy shoes were crunching the stones and pine 
needles under foot, and voices sounded louder and 
louder. 

Must be Wilson and Jones,” said Ross going to 
the door. 

The room was lighted by two miner’s candle- 
sticks driven into the side logs. One candle was 

131 


ROSS GRANT 


near the door, and the light fell on the genial face 
of Wishing Wilson, who paused in the doorway to 
wring Ross's hand and shout his greetings at the 
other occupants of the room, before stepping in 
and allowing his young partner to enter. When 
Ross finally held out his hand to Leslie Jones he 
knew that he was facing a boy as homesick as him- 
self, rather than Queen Victory's youngest." 

Leslie gripped the other's hand as though its 
owner were a lifelong friend. How do you make 
it up here ? " he asked in a low tone. 

Don't make it yet," responded Ross. I just 
got here to-day. Steele came up with me." 

Then he turned to introduce Leslie to the Mc- 
Kenzies and saw a tableau which puzzled him. 

Way mart was staring at Leslie with amazed eyes 
and a lower jaw that slightly sagged. He held his 
pipe in front of his mouth surprised in the act of ad- 
justing it between his lips. Sandy, rising, came 
blithely forward, and, in passing Waymart, stum- 
bled and jostled against him. Waymart instantly 
recovered his lost poise. Lowering his pipe he 
slouched along behind Sandy and shook hands with 
Wilson's partner. Wilson himself was over beside 
Weimer’s bunk telling at the top of his voice that 
he had come to a rock wall in his tunnel, and on 
the other side there must, without fail, be either a 
pocket of free gold or a lead that would make the 
132 


TENDERFOOT 


claims among the most valuable in the Shoshones. 
To this optimistic talk Leslie did not listen with 
the same absorbing interest he had shown at Sage- 
hen Roost, Ross noticed. 

In fact, a week of loneliness, coarse food and 
hard work had wilted Leslie Jones both physically 
and mentally. Abject weariness seemed to have 
robbed him of a part of his absorbing self-esteem. 
Furthermore, he appeared to Ross to be troubled 
as well as homesick. He looked at Sandy and 
Waymart unrecognizingly and sat down on a 
bench beneath the candle by the stove. 

We shall stay,’^ Ross heard Wishing tell the 
McKenzies, “ till the pass over Crosby threatens. 
Then we’ll hike it below to the coal claims.’’ 

“ Didn’t know you had any,” interrupted Sandy. 

Where are they ? ” 

Up Wood River, only about a mile or such a 
matter from Camp. Fine outcroppin’ of coal. 
Best in the country. When the Burlington gits 
here they’ve got t’ have coal and I says to myself, 
* There’s where you come up on top, Wishin’, you’ll 
have th’ coal t’ sell ’em,’ me and my pard now,” 
he added with a glance at Jones. 

The boy looked at him vaguely, as though he 
had not heard, and nodded. He sat with one 
knee thrown over the other, his back pressed 
against the side logs, his eyes so heavy that the 

133 


ROSS GRANT 


lids kept drooping despite his efforts to keep 
awake. His hands were blistered, and his new 
corduroy suit dirty and torn. The air of newness 
which had characterized him when Ross first met 
him was gone. His hair had lengthened, and his 
cheeks revealed hollows. He said but little, being 
engaged in the absorbing effort to keep awake. 
Besides, Sandy and Wilson gave no one else a 
chance to talk. Waymart smoked stolidly staring 
at the candle above Leslie. 

Ross, sitting with his elbows on the table, ceased 
to struggle against weariness, and, with his head 
on his arms, fell asleep. He awakened just in 
time to see his callers depart, whereupon he threw 
himself, dressed, in his bunk and slept until late 
the next morning. 

During the next few weeks, all days seemed alike 
to Ross except Sunday. Early each Sunday morn- 
ing he struck the trail for Miners’ Camp, the post- 
office, and Steele’s shack. At first he crept shud- 
deringly over that quarter mile around the shoulder 
of Crosby. But soon his head lost every sense of 
giddiness, and his legs regained their accustomed 
strength, and his heart ceased to beat agitatedly at 
sight of the thousand-feet fall. 

On the third Sunday he came into Steele’s shack 
with a brighter face than he had worn before. 

“ Things are sort of righting themselves,” he re- 
134 



HE STRUCK THE TRAIL 



»• • 


TENDERFOOT 


ported over a hot elk steak. I’m getting Weimer 
down to work in dead earnest,” chuckling. I 
hold the McKenzie boys before his mind’s eye 
continually, and roll that car out, and dump it so 
quickly that he has to step lively to get enough 
ore picked out and blasted out to fill it.” 

Steele whistled when Ross told him how many 
cubic feet had been taken out of the Weimer-Grant 
tunnel during the week. He took from his pocket 
a paper and pencil, and fell to figuring. Ross 
pushed aside the empty dishes, and, leaning across 
the table, looked on with interest. He, too, had 
figured extensively since work began on Meadow 
Creek, but only during the last week had the 
figures satisfied him. 

“ Why, man alive ! ” cried Steele after a few mo- 
ments’ silent work, ** you’ll fetch it, at this rate.” 
He stretched his hand across the table impetuously, 
and gripped Ross’s, adding, ** I thought you could 
never do it — even with a backbone.” 

Ross’s shoulders straightened, and his face 
flushed boyishly. “ We must fetch it ! ” 

Steele leaned back, and drummed on the table. 
'' What about the McKenzies ? Of course they 
must know what progress you’ve made.” 

‘‘Well,” exclaimed Ross, “I hope I can keep 
’em so interested guessing that they’ll stay all 
winter. They come over as socially as you please 

135 


ROSS GRANT 


about every evening. Weimer doesn^t like it 
much. He has no use for 'em, but I have, you 
bet 1 I’m glad to have 'em around, especially 
now when I can estimate that at the present rate 
of speed the tunnel will be ready so we can apply 
for a patent by June." 

To Dr. and Mrs. Grant, Ross wrote : It's going 
to be a long pull and a strong pull, but I shall 
stick to the ship and show father that I can do 
something else besides setting a bone. 

And what's more and queerer, I'm in danger 
of getting interested in gold mining for itself. 
Every time I push our little car out to the end 
of the dump and unload the ore I wonder how 
much gold I'm watching roll away down the in- 
cline. Aunt Anne, you said in your last that it 
seems such a waste to throw away the ore. Well, 
if you were here you'd find it a greater waste of 
good money to try to get money out of the quartz 
under present conditions. You see there are only 
a few dollars' worth of gold in a ton of rock. That 
ton would have to be ^ packed,' as they say here, 
eighty miles over the roughest of trails to Cody, 
and there loaded on cars and sent clear to Omaha, 
our nearest smelter. And I guess you know more 
than I do about the costly process of crushing ore 
and extracting gold from it in a smelter. It's not 
like mining for ‘ pay dirt,' as the men here call 
13b 


TENDERFOOT 


placer mining, where you gather up sand and wash 
it out yourself and find the particles of gold in the 
bottom of your pan. This quartz digging is the* 
most expensive kind of mining there is. But 
when the Burlington gets the branch road up into 
Miners’ the ore can be loaded at the mines and 
unloaded in Omaha without change of cars. Then 
we’ll dig out the dumps and send them to the 
smelter, and back will come the gold jingling 
into our pockets. But whenever I’m moved to 
give you information I feel small, for I believe, 
in spite of all you write, that you both know more 
than I do about it now. 

I haven’t had a book in my hand. Uncle Fred. 
When it comes night, I am too tired to understand 
the newspapers that I bring over from Miners’, 
to say nothing of delving in histology. I expect 
I shall forget all I ever knew, but never mind ! 
If I can get those claims patented, and so satisfy 
father, then next year I’ll begin over again to fit 
myself for college — guess what I knew once will 
come back when I’ve studied a little. Anyway, 
I’m not going to worry about it now.” 

Ross underscored those last words to convince 
himself that he was not worrying, and handed the 
letter over to Bill Travers to be mailed at Mee- 
teetse. 

To his father Ross proudly wrote of the week’s 

137 


ROSS GRANT 


progress in the tunnel, adding in reply to a rather 
longer letter than usual, which he found awaiting 
•him in Camp, No, I have no intention of throw- 
ing up the job/^ 

His father had opened the way wide for him to 
throw up the job after receiving the letter he 
had requested Steele to fill with exact information. 
That part of the information which stated that 
Ross must necessarily be shut up in Meadow 
Creek Valley for months with a more or less weak- 
headed partner had led to the letter which Ross 
found awaiting him. But Ross, Junior, was not 
well enough acquainted with Ross, Senior, to un- 
derstand that this letter was an invitation for him 
to return East. 

He thinks I^m just chicken-hearted enough to 
be ready to cut and run at the first obstacle,’^ was 
Rosses thought when he read what his father had 
written. His chin came up, and his eyes nar- 
rowed. I’d stay and work here a year before I’d 
show the white feather now.” 

Ever since his last visit to New York, Ross had 
dwelt with secret pride on the respect and confi- 
dence that his father had shown him, and the 
sensation was so new and pleasant that he had no 
intention of forfeiting it. 

And thus it happened that, with Grant, Senior, 
and Dr. Grant and Aunt Anne all desiring Ross’s 
138 


TENDERFOOT 


presence at home, and with Rosses wishes coincid- 
ing exactly with theirs, he remained at the jump- 
ing-ofF place into the wilderness. 

In his private office on Broadway, Grant, Senior, 
read and reread, No, I have no intention of 
throwing up the job.” He twisted uneasily in his 
swivel-chair. He pulled Steele's last letter out of 
a pigeonhole, read it, frowned, and replaced it. 
Then he leaned back and admitted aloud : 

I wish the boy was safely entered in medical 
college.” 

But, even as he considered the matter, “ the 
boy ” with a small pack on his back, candy and a 
few apples to eat as a relish with the canned stuff, 
was plodding through the snow, light and easily 
brushed aside as yet, over the trail between Miners' 
Camp and Meadow Creek. And the boy's heart 
was growing as courageous as his muscles were 
strong. 


139 


CHAPTER VII 


HALF-CONFIDENCES 

It was dark that night when Ross arrived at 
the Weimer shack. The candles were lighted, and 
as he passed the window, he saw Leslie Jones 
within, sitting on a box on the opposite side of the 
room. His elbows were on the table, and he was 
listening to Weimer, or rather, pretending to listen. 
At a glance, Ross saw that his thoughts were far 
afield, his eyes being fixed on the speaker with an 
absent stare. He appeared more unkempt than on 
the occasion of his first call, and his face was 
thinner. There was also about him an air of col- 
lapse that made him a different^person from the 
overbearing young man who had issued lofty 
orders at Sagehen Roost. 

It was the second time that Ross had seen him 
since coming into the valley. The week before he 
had gone with the McKenzies one evening to the 
Jones claims, but the two boys had exchanged few 
remarks, both being too tired to talk. 

As Ross entered the shack a sudden thought 
struck him. He stopped in the doorway and 
greeted Jones with, See here ! Why haven’t I 
140 


TENDERFOOT 


thought to get your mail Sundays ? You haven^t 
been over to Camp at all, have you ? ” 

Leslie moved uneasily. He picked up his cap 
and pulled at the rim. Aw — it's bully of you to 

think of my mail, but I'm not expecting — why, 
yes, you might inquire," he added lamely. Then, 
What's going on in Camp ? I’d like to hear 
something about people once more," with a wry 
smile. 

Ross unstrapped a pack from his back and threw 
the contents on the table. Sorting out the week's 
papers, he tossed them across the table. ‘‘ * Omaha 
News.' Want to see it ? " 

The blood came in an unexpected rush to Les- 
lie's face and his hand trembled as he reached for 
the papers. Ross watched him as he took them 
and scanned the headings, column by column. 
Then he glanced keenly over the advertisements, 
and without reading further threw the papers 
aside and rested his elbows despondently on the 
table. 

Weimer, satisfied with the tobacco and candy 
that Ross had brought, retired to his bunk, dozing 
and smoking by turns. Ross had seated himself 
at the table opposite Leslie and reread his letters. 
Now, as the other cast the papers aside, he looked 
up and met misery in the eyes leveled at him 
from beneath his caller's lengthening hair. 

141 


ROSS GRANT 

“ Say ! ” ejaculated Ross impulsively, I bet you 
find it as awful up in this country as I do ! 

** Awful ! echoed Leslie. It’s ” A sud- 

den working in his throat stopped him. He 
turned his face away. 

I wouldn’t stay here for all the gold in these 
mountains if things weren’t just as they are,” Ross 
continued sympathetically, ‘‘ and I presume you’re 
caught in some such way, too, or you’d get out.” 

Leslie hesitated, nodded and again faced Ross. 

How are you caught ? ” he asked eagerly. 

Ross told him briefly about his father’s interest 
in the claims and Weimer’s appeal for help that 
had led to his, Ross’s, coming. 

As he talked Leslie’s eagerness evaporated. He 
evidently was looking for another sort of explana- 
tion, and his response was only half-hearted : 

Then your father sent you. That’s bad luck 
when you want to be in school.” He hesitated and 
added : ‘‘ It’s not every fellow that wants to go to 
school. I hate it ! ” 

You do I ” exclaimed Ross. ‘‘ Well, I can’t say 
I waste any love on studying myself, that is, in 
most studies, but I’m after results. I’m willing to 
bone down to work because of where the work will 
take me. The only thing I really like to study is 
medicine, anatomy and all that sort of thing, you 
know. But in order to get anywhere in the pro- 
142 


TENDERFOOT 


fession, I have to take a lot of mathematics and 
language and things that I detest.” 

Leslie's shoulders came up. '' I won't study 
what I don't like,'' he declared arrogantly, and I 
can't be made to — guess they're finding that out, 
too I '' The last was under his breath. 

Well,'' Ross began vaguely, if you want to be 
a business man it's not necessary to go through 

college. Our most successful business men '' 

His voice trailed into silence as he saw that the 
other was not listening. 

There ensued a few moments of quiet. In the 
bunk Weimer snored gently. A nickel clock sus- 
pended on a peg from the side logs ticked loudly. 
The pine chunks in the sheet-iron stove cracked 
and snapped cheerfully. Leslie stared dejectedly 
at the table, while Ross, his forehead knit into a 
puzzled frown, stared at Leslie. What could have 
happened, he asked himself, to rob the other in 
four weeks of his former desire to turn pros- 
pector? Homesickness? Perhaps, but Ross de- 
cided the trouble lay deeper. If it were mere 
homesickness, the boy would be haunting Miners' 
Camp and the post-office or else clearing out of the 
mountains. 

Where's Wilson ? '' Ross asked finally. 

Leslie aroused himself with difficulty. ‘‘He's 
over at the McKenzies'. I came here.'' 

143 


, ROSS GRANT 

‘‘How^s the tunnel going? Are you making 
headway ? 

This question opened the flood-gates of Leslie^s 
misery. “ Headway ? he burst out. ‘‘ Yes, we're 
making headway, but toward what, I'd like to 
know I " 

It was an exclamation rather than a question, 
and the boy brought his clenched fist down vio- 
lently on the table. 

“ Why," stammered Ross, toward getting the 
claims patented, I suppose. What else did you 
expect ? " 

Leslie's excitement subsided. He folded his 
arms on the table. “ I came expecting to find 
gold," he confessed. I could hardly wait to get 
here and now — well, I'm here, that’s all, and all 
my money is spent for supplies." 

But didn't you understand," Ross began, that 
the ore up here had to be smelted in order to re- 
lease the metal, and that we can never pack the ore 
on horseback over these trails and " 

“ No,” cried Leslie fiercely, I didn't under- 
stand. I understood that I was coming to work 
claims that would surely prove a perfect Klondike 
in a short time — I thought in a few weeks." 

Oh, that's Wilson," broke in Ross. “ He's a 
perfect promoter, Steele tells me, because he be- 
lieves in things himself so intensely that he makes 
144 


TENDERFOOT 


you see his way in spite of yourself. Steele says 
he has been quartz crazy for years. Every claim 
that he stakes holds his everlasting fortune in 
prospect.*’ 

“ I’ve found that out,” assented Leslie bitterly, 

and yet I can’t blame Wilson. I foisted myself 
on him at Omaha — he didn’t get after me. And he 
has really been square with me. He simply made 
me believe in his claims as thoroughly as he does, 
and he believes in them yet, but I don’t. You 
see,” Leslie explained, ‘‘ he keeps expecting to run 
across a pocket of free gold, and that he says he’ll 
turn over to me so I can get back the money I put 
into the supplies. I’ve got to get that money back 
pretty soon,” he added emphatically. 

Ross looked at him commiseratingly. I’m 
afraid you can’t.” 

For a moment Leslie’s lips worked miserably. 
He took no pains to conceal his emotion from 
Ross. Finally he burst out, I must. Grant. I’ve 
simply got to have that money back.” He held 
out his hands palms up. They were blistered and 
sore. ** That doesn’t matter,” he declared. I’d 
work ’em to the bone if the work would bring the 
gold. And a month ago I’d never done an hour’s 
work in my life. I tell you,” in a burst of irre- 
pressible confidence, everything looks diflferentto 
me to-day from what it did five weeks ago. I wish 
145 


ROSS GRANT 


— I wish I could go back those five weeks — why, 
I^d almost be willing to go to school 

Approaching sounds stopped the confidence that 
Ross was so anxious to hear. The door opened 
unceremoniously, and the McKenzies entered, ac- 
companied by Wilson. The latter was talking ex- 
citedly. With a nod at Ross he finished his speech 
while helping himself to a seat beside the stove. 

I tell you there^s every sign of free gold. Same 
kind of stun crops out there and in the same lay- 
ers and at the same angle as when I was working 
up in Butte. My claims was right next door to a 
fellow^s named Harrison. One mornin^ he bust 
through a wall rock slam bang right onto two 
thousand dollars' worth of the prettiest yellow ye 
ever see. And I tell ye I shouldn't be a mite sur- 
prised if our next blast showed us a streak of yel- 
low too." 

Sandy laughed unconcernedly. A streak of 
yeller in a chap and in a rock mean two different 
things, I notice. And I've also seen more of the 
yeller in fellers than in rocks," easily dropping on 
a box and lighting his pipe. 

Young Jones, looking at his partner, brightened 
visibly, despite the knowledge he had recently ac- 
quired of Wilson's optimism. There was about 
the man such a cock-sureness, such simple sincerity 
and abiding faith in his own statements that Ross 
146 


TENDERFOOT 


felt that he could not rest content the following 
day without knowing the result of that next 
charge of dynamite. 

Steele had told him about these ” pockets that 
occasionally are concealed in the heart of the veins 
or “ leads along which mining tunnels are driven. 
They are uncovered unexpectedly by a blast of 
dynamite. They consist of small quantities of 
quartz of such richness that it pays to transport 
the ore to the smelter. But every prospector 
dreams of uncovering a pocket of free gold ore, 
quartz through which the gold is scattered in visible 
particles or streaks and can be extracted in its pure 
state with the aid of a hammer and a knife blade. 

Come down to-morrow night, Ross said in a 
low tone across the table, and report.^^ 

Leslie nodded, and Ross, going to his emergency 
chest, brought out a bottle of liquid and a box of 
salve. Here,'^ he said abruptly, ** better take 
some care of those hands of yours if you donT 
want blood poisoning to set in. Soak ^em well in 
hot water with a teaspoonful of this added — he 
shoved the bottle of liquid across the table — “ and 
then rub in this salve. And don't work in the 
dirt without gloves till those sores are healed." 

Humbly and gratefully Leslie took his orders 
from Doc Tenderfoot," while the men looked on 
with interest and many questions. 

147 


ROSS GRANT 


“ Tell ye what/’ said Sandy heartily, if I in- 
tended t’ winter here I’d feel easier about the trail 
bein’ closed. If a stick should go off at the wrong 
time and blow ye inf pieces, Doc here could put 
th’ pieces together and patch ye up as good as new. 
Doc’s all right I ” 

I wish,” thought Ross as he saw his guests de- 
part, ** that I could say the same about Sandy.” 

But while he had no faith in the friendly pre- 
tentions of Sandy, he dreaded any mention of his 
leaving the mountains. To feel that he would be 
left alone with Weimer for months was madden- 
ing. If only Wilson and his partner were to re- 
main on the Creek — but they too would go as soon 
as the trail threatened to become impassable. 
This careless speech of Sandy’s concerning leaving 
the valley drove all other ideas out of Ross’s head 
that night arid persisted in the morning. To feel 
that Weimer and himself were the only human 
beings in Meadow Creek Valley, to know that 
there was no escape until the sun thawed away the 
barrier in the spring was a terrifying thought. It 
was present that day with Ross like a waking 
nightmare. As he pushed the little car out of the 
tunnel and dumped it, he looked up at the cold 
gray peaks with a wild desire to level them and 
bring Miners’ Camp — Cody — Pennsylvania — 
nearer. So absorbing was this desire that he for- 
148 


TENDERFOOT 

got the promised visit from Leslie and was sur- 
prised to see him at the door before he had fin- 
ished washing the supper dishes. 

You wanted to hear about that promised vein,’^ 
explained the newcomer, reading Ross’s surprise 
in his face. 

Oh — why, yes ! That pocket of free gold I ” 
exclaimed Ross hastily picking up the thread of 
connection where it had been broken the previous 
evening by Sandy’s reference to leaving the valley. 
** Did you uncover it ? ” 

Uncover nothing ! ” returned Leslie. He sat 
on the table and swung his feet restlessly, adding 
despondently, And what’s more, we won’t un- 
cover anything in a lifetime up here, either. I’ve 
lost all hope — except,” he added with a shrug of 
his shoulders, ‘‘just the minute that Wilson is 
talking.” 

“ I never had any hope,” said Ross slowly, “ but 
then, I have never given the ore more than a 
thought. With me it’s simply to get the work 
done, satisfy my father and — clear out.” 

“ And with me,” responded Leslie, “ it’s the 
money now — I’ve got to have the money. Only,” 
he added, “ I’ll say this — that when I left Omaha 
there was more in it for me than the money. You 
see — I’ll own up — I was crazy to get out of school 
and, well — see things and do ’em I If I’d gone to 
149 


ROSS GRANT 


some other place, to Goldfield or even down to 
Miners' Camp it would be difierent. But I'm here 
and all my money's spent." 

Continually he came back to that last statement. 
That fact had evidently swallowed up all the lust 
for adventure, for getting out and seeing things " 
— it was the only thing that young Jones could 
now see in the situation. Ross wondered why but 
did not like to ask. Finally he said hesitatingly, 
I say, Jones, if you want to get out of here I'll — 
that is — I have enough on hand to let you have 
your car-fare back to Omaha." 

The blood rushed over Leslie's face. His head 
came up proudly. See here. Grant," he ex- 
claimed briskly, sliding off the table and stufiing 
his hands into his pockets, it must sound as if 
I'm a low-down beggar, but I never thought of 
such a thing as getting hold of your money I " 

“ And I never thought of it, either," declared 
Ross quickly. ** I've made you the offer on my 
own hook. Come off your high and mighty perch 
and talk sense I Take the money and pay it back 
when you can. I'm a hundred dollars to the good 
here." 

Leslie “ came off his perch " instantly and held 
out his hand repentantly. “ Thank you. Grant. 
That's awfully white of you, but that won't do. 
It's not car-fare I want, and Omaha is the last 
150 


TENDERFOOT 


place I want to strike — or next to the last, at least 
— without — well, a lot more than car-fare/^ After 
a moment he repeated, I tell you it's white of you 
to offer it, though. It makes a fellow feel as if 
he'd fallen among friends." 

The latter expression reminded Ross of some- 
thing about which he had not thought in three 
weeks, namely, the behavior of Waymart McKen- 
zie when he first saw Leslie. With the water still 
dripping from the dish-pan the boy hung it against 
the logs, tossed the dish-cloth on top of the pan 
and rolling down his sleeves, asked : 

“ Jones, do you know the McKenzies? " 

Leslie shook his head. “ Before coming here, 
do you mean ? " 

Ross nodded. 

No, never saw them before. Why ? " 

Oh, nothing," returned Ross carelessly, “ only 
when you came in here the first night I thought 
they acted as though they'd seen you before, or 
Waymart did, rather." 

The effect of this simple statement was unex- 
pected. Leslie gripped the table excitedly. His 
face paled and he was obliged to clear his throat 
before asking : '' What made you think that ? I 
didn't — didn't notice anything. I never thought 
that they — he " 

** It was just a trifle that made me think that," 

151 


ROSS GRANT 


Ross hastened to assure his guest in confusion. 

Just a little byplay when Way mart first saw you. 
Nothing to '' 

Tell me exactly what it was,” commanded 
Leslie, and all the boy’s imperiousness leaped to 
the front. I want to know all that you saw.” 

Ross related the incident haltingly. Sandy 
didn’t act as though he had ever seen you before. 
It was only Waymart,” he said consolingly, but it 
was plain to be seen that the other was not con- 
soled. 

It’s possible, very possible that they may have 
seen me — I wouldn’t have noticed them,” he mut- 
tered, if they were — that is, father hired any 
number of men — they might all see me and I not 
notice them.” 

“ Maybe I can find out,” offered Ross promptly. 

I’ll ask them.” 

No, no I ” hastily ; don’t bother with the 
matter.” 

Leslie crossed the room, threw open the door 
and stood staring across the valley at the McKen- 
zie shack. When next he spoke he did not look 
around : 

“ It will be just as well. Grant, if you don’t men- 
tion me to ’em until ” There ensued a long 

pause. Then, until I talk with you again.” 

Just before he left he asked abruptly, ‘‘Do you 
152 


TENDERFOOT 

bring the Omaha papers back with you every 
Sunday ? 

I can,” replied Ross, ** if you want ^em. But, 
see here, Jones, why don’t you go over to Camp 
with me next Sunday ? ” 

Leslie hesitated. Guess I will. Good-night.” 

A few steps from the door he turned back. 

See here. Grant, don’t wait for me Sunday. If I 
go I’ll be here by eight o’clock. But if I don’t go, 
I should like to see the Omaha papers.” 

All right, I’ll fetch them,” returned Ross. 

Sunday morning he postponed his start for 
Miners’ Camp until past eight o’clock, hoping that 
Leslie would come, but no Leslie appeared. Sandy 
did, however. He came freshly shaved and 
combed, with a new kerchief knotted about his 
neck. 

Want some good company over t’ Camp ? ” he 
inquired jocularly. If ye do, here it is, fer I’m 
goin’ out.” 

** Going to stay long or just for the day ? ” asked 
Ross. 

** Oh, I dunno how long,” carelessly. ** I’ve got 
t’ see Cody again. Little old town couldn’t fetch it 
if I didn’t hang around it about once in so often.” 

Is Waymart going ? ” 

** Nope, Mart will hold the cabin and claims 
down here. Mart don’t like t’ hit th’ trail as often 

153 


ROSS GRANT 


as I do. He^s fer his pipe and a soft bunk and a 
good meal. Mart ^ud be a failure as one of these 
here globe-trotters. He^s what ye could call 
domestic in his tastes. The only thing he lacks,” 
here Sandy chuckled at his own wit, is a blamed 
thing to be domestic about ! ” 

As they were making their way cautiously 
around the shoulder of Crosby, Sandy asked sud- 
denly, Why don’t that young Jones go t’ Camp 
ever on Sunday ? Guess they don’t work Sundays 
up t’ th’ Wilson claims. I should think he’d be as 
wild as you be t’ git over this side of Crosby where 
there’s a post-office and newspapers and things.” 

“ I don’t know,” returned Ross in a general 
denial of knowledge of all Sandy had said. 

“ I wonder about that young feller now,” pur- 
sued Sandy affably. 

So do I ! ” thought Ross. He said nothing. 

I wonder how he come t’ drop out of nowhere 
with money enough t’ grub-stake the two of ’em 
fer six months — and then have nothin’ further t’ 
draw on ! ” 

Sandy, walking now shoulder to shoulder with 
Ross, looked at him keenly. 

“ Don’t know anything about it,” returned Ross 
shortly, but he could not rid himself of the in- 
sinuation in Sandy’s words. 

When he returned that night to Meadow Creek, 

154 


TENDERFOOT 


Ross was disappointed at finding Wilson awaiting 
him as well as Leslie. He had hoped that Leslie 
would come for the papers alone and would con- 
tinue the conversation of his previous visit. 

In a loud and jovial voice Wilson informed Doc 
that his pard had started out in good shape that 
morning to go over to Camp and had then backed 
out. 

** Must have got clean over here/^ Wilson added. 

Leslie gathered up the newspapers which Ross 
had brought and fitted them together without 
meeting Rosses eyes. ** I found I was too tired to 
go on/' was all the explanation he made. “ I 
slept pretty much all day and am going to turn in 
early to-night." 

Ross nodded speechlessly, wondering how much 
Sandy's going had to do with Leslie's staying. 
Would the latter avoid the McKenzies now that 
he knew they had seemed to recognize him, and 
why ? Before the evening was far spent Ross 
began to suspect that Leslie would like to avoid 
him also, if it were possible. The boy looked 
more despondent than ever, but he shielded his 
despondency behind a proud reserve that shut 
Ross out, much to the latter's disappointment. 

** Perhaps," Ross told himself, “ if I hadn't been 
such an idiot as to offer him money, he wouldn't 
act so offish now. I never had any more tact than 

155 


ROSS GRANT 

a goat, anyhow I Wish I had minded my own 
business and let him do all the talking ! 

‘‘ Vas ist de matter mit dot poy ? ” Weimer asked 
as soon as the door closed on their visitors. He 
vas such a talker oder time he vas here und now 
he talks nicht at all/^ 

Guess he^s homesick/^ 

Weimer rubbed his great hands together thought- 
fully. “ Und sick of de mountains, I tink,’^ he 
added shrewdly. Ven dot poy come here he 
fooled himself! 

The last of the week saw Sandy^s return. He 
came strolling along the trail one night just as the 
sunlight was fading from the tops of the moun- 
tains. He was whistling, apparently in high 
spirits. Stopping at the door of Weimer^s shack 
he paused to call : 

Hi, in there. Grant I I saw your friend 
Leonard at Cody. I set you up in fine shape t^ 
fim. ^ No grass, ^ says I, ‘ will turn t' hay while 
he^s gittin^ things done.^ 

Ross laughed. Despite the fact that he knew 
Sandy’s praise covered an abyss of insincerity, it 
was pleasant, none the less. 

After the supper dishes were washed, he decided 
to visit the McKenzies. “ Want to go along. 
Uncle Weimer? he asked, well knowing what the 
reply would be. 

156 


TENDERFOOT 


Go mit dem McKenzies? ” gesticulated Weimer. 
“ Ven I do it yill pe ven my legs von^t carry me 
avay from dem ! 

Ross laughed. “ Well, Uncle Weimer, my legs 
seem to want to carry me where I can get the Cody 
news. I want to hear about Mr. Leonard. Perhaps 
he has heard from father more recently than I.” 

There was no moon that night, and the sky 
had become suddenly overcast so that Ross faced a 
dense darkness pierced only by the candle-light 
from the window of the McKenzie shack. He 
stumbled toward this, feeling his way so slowly 
along the narrow trail that he unwittingly ap- 
proached the cabin silently and surprised an 
altercation within. Sandy^s voice was raised in 
vehement assertion and Waymart’s lower rumble 
in protest. As he was groping for the door, he 
heard Sandy say : 

I tell ye. Mart, wild bosses won’t drag ’im up 
here s’ long as that young feller is in these mount- 
ings, and we may want ’im here.” 

Then Waymart’s response, '' Well, what be ye 
aimin’ to do about it? Don’t bite off more’n ye 
can swaller. Ye do that too often. He’ll be out 
of here in a few weeks. What’s eatin’ ye ? * Let 
well enough alone.’ ” 

Yes,” scornfully from Sandy. Ye maverick 1 
They won’t go till we ” 


157 


ROSS GRANT 


Ross, his hand on the door, had stubbed his toe 
against a stone. 

Sh,^^ came Sandy's warning in lowered tones. 

What's that?" 

There was a step across the floor. Ross in- 
stinctively fell back into the darkness and slipped 
behind a tree. The door was jerked open and 
Sandy's figure appeared. An instant he looked 
out and then turning back, said disgustedly, No- 
budy, but guess we don't need t' yell loud enough 
t' be heard up t' Wilson's." 


158 


CHAPTER VIII 


boss's HIKED MAN " 

As the door closed on Sandy, Ross beat a hasty 
retreat. His first thought was that the brothers 
were discussing him. The fact that they were in 
the valley to watch the progress of work on the 
Weimer-Grant claims and that they were inter- 
ested in his being there and not anxious to have 
him remain, all aided in the interpretation of the 
McKenzies' speeches. 

But who on earth is it that won't come as long 
as I am here and why not ? " he asked himself as 
he stumbled back in the direction of the light in 
Weimer's cabin. 

** Vat's you pack for alreddy ? " demanded 
Weimer from his bunk as Ross opened the door. 
‘‘ 1st dem McKenzies mit Wilson, hein ? " 

“ No," returned Ross, but I decided that I am 
tired enough to turn in instead of going visiting," 
and he forthwith ‘‘ turned in," but did not go to 
sleep immediately. 

Truth to tell, he was uneasy. He felt that 
Sandy, behind that good-natured, friendly ex- 
159 


ROSS GRANT 


terior, was full of schemes. The McKenzies 
wanted the claims, and Ross had unexpectedly 
interposed himself between them and their de- 
sires. Therefore, their schemes must include him. 
What was on foot now ? 

He tossed restlessly in his bunk assailed with 
qualms of fear that he tried to conceal from him- 
self Ah, what you afraid of?*^ he asked him- 
self disgustedly. They wonT shoot you nor yet 
tie you hand and foot and throw you over the 
Crosby trail. As Steele says, I havenT a thing 
to fear personally from ^em. That's not their 
way. Go to sleep." 

This command he issued to himself in an angry 
mutter and at once scrambled up in his bunk wider 
awake than ever. His mental horizon unexpect- 
edly cleared. Of course he's the one they meant 
and not me I " he exclaimed aloud. 

“ Vat's dat you say ? " asked Weimer sleepily. 

Hein?" 

A waking nightmare," returned Ross and lay 
down again. 

Of course it was Leslie. ' He's to be here only 
a few weeks,' " Waymart had said. ‘ Let well 
enough alone.' " He, Ross, expected to winter in 
the valley, and the McKenzies knew it. Yes, they 
were referring to Leslie. That calmed Ross, but 
deepened the mystery. 

i6o 


TENDERFOOT 


The following morning he thought over the 
situation while he was at work. It was a blind 
enough situation, but he felt that he ought to re- 
peat to Leslie the scraps of conversation that he 
had overheard. They might mean much to the 
boy, and in spite of his reserve and his overbear- 
ing manners Ross liked Leslie. 

At noon he ate dinner hastily, and telling 
Weimer that he would be back in an hour, set 
out for the upper claims. Snow had fallen the 
night before and the trail had filled, making walk- 
ing tiresome, for Ross had not yet accustomed him- 
self to the use of snow-shoes. With his hands in 
his pockets and his cap drawn down over his eyes 
he plunged through the drifts in the teeth of a 
sharp east wind. Up the side of the mountains 
he struggled, through the pass between two peaks 
where Meadow Creek had cut a channel and into 
a hollow sheltered from the wind and exposed to 
the sun. 

Hello, Grant ! A voice greeted him from the 
upper side of the trail. 

Ross pushed his cap back and looked up. In 
the sunshine, his back against a warm rock, his 
feet buried in the dry loam and pine needles, sat 
Leslie Jones. He had eaten his dinner and wan- 
dered along the trail until he had found a warm 
spot in which to spend the noon hour. Ross 

i6i 


ROSS GRANT 


promptly climbed the steep mountainside and 
dropped down beside him. 

The McKenzies say/^ began Leslie curiously, 
“ that you don’t stop work long enough to eat and 
sleep. Yet here you are two miles from home in 
the middle of the day.” 

It’s because of what the McKenzies have said 
that I’m here now,” Ross returned swiftly. It 
may not be worth a pickayune to you, and then 
again, maybe, it will be,” and he related the events 
of the previous evening. 

Leslie bent a troubled face over a stick that he 
was idly whittling. “ Are you sure. Grant, that 
they meant me ? I haven’t an idea who they are 
nor who could be so afraid of me that he wouldn’t 
come up here with me here. I don’t know of a 
soul that’s afraid of me, but,” with a short, mirth- 
less laugh, I do know of some one that I’m afraid 
of. It’s not the McKenzies, although they might 

— if they know me ” 

Suddenly he flung the stick from him and 
faced Ross impulsively. Grant, did you ever do 
something that you’d give anything you possessed 
to undo — and that you’d just got to undo? ” 

Ross, startled at the sudden change in his com- 
panion, at the latter’s intensity and evident un- 
happiness, merely shook his head awkwardly, 
avoiding the misery-fllled eyes. He turned away 
162 


TENDERFOOT 


and began piling up stones, bits of shining quartz 
that had been thrown, at some time, out of a dis- 
covery hole above them. 

Presently Leslie regained his self-possession. 
** I say. Grant,’’ he began again abruptly, “ to tell 
you the truth, I have started to go over to see 
you half a dozen times within a week and got 
this far every time. I’m going to ask a favor of 
you.” 

All right,” said Ross with a gruffness that did 
not conceal his sympathy. Fire ahead ! ” 

** The other day you — you offered me money,” 
Leslie began with difficulty. 

Yes, and I do to-day,” Ross interrupted. 

Leslie shook his head. ** Hold on till I get to 
it. I can’t take your money — not that way. But 
the other day I heard the McKenzies tell Wilson 
that you tried to hire men in Miners’ Camp. Will 
you hire me ? ” 

Will I ! ” Ross leaped to his feet. He grabbed 
his cap and tossed it in the air and then fell to 
pommeling Leslie in pure exuberance of joy. 
‘‘ Hire you ? I wish there were half a dozen of 

you to hire ! Bully for you I But ” 

His exuberance died out. He replaced his cap 
and looked down on the other, his lips pursed 
ready for a whistle. 

Well?” 


163 


ROSS GRANT 


** See here I ” Ross burst out. What about 
Wilson ? 

‘‘That^s all right/’ Leslie answered quickly. 
** 1 told him a couple of days ago that I’d got to 
get money. I told him I’d leave him the grub, of 
course. I agreed to furnish it, and I’ll stick to my 
word,” doggedly, “ but I must also light out and 
earn some money. And all I can do is to work 
with my hands. I — well, I’ve always hated to 
make my head work, and I’ve never had to do 
any other kind until now. You’ll find I’m soft 
yet, but I’ll do my best.” 

The boy spoke humbly. 

Ross sent his cap spinning into the air once 
more. ** I’ll risk you ! You’re not as soft as you 
were six weeks ago! Not by half! When can 
you come ? ” 

Leslie considered. Wilson says he’ll go below 
to the coal claims in a couple of weeks. I’ll talk 
it over with him and let you know.” 

‘‘Come to-morrow, if you can,” Ross shouted 
back as he slid down to the trail. 

Work went easily for a few days in view of 
Leslie’s coming. The thought of his companion- 
ship robbed the prospective loneliness of Meadow 
Creek Valley of its terrors. He whistled and sang 
about the shack as he hunted up the material out 
of which to make a third bunk. He was hammer- 
164 


TENDERFOOT 

ing away on this the second evening after his talk 
with Leslie, when the McKenzies dropped in. 
They had been over on the Divide hunting and 
had been out of Ross's sight and mind since his 
talk with Leslie. Not until Sandy pushed the 
door open unceremoniously and walked in did 
Ross recall the comments that had so disturbed 
him and wondered once more to whom they had 
referred, himself or Leslie, and what the reference 
meant. 

“ Hello, Grant ! " Sandy exclaimed, stopping 
abruptly just inside the door. ‘‘What's up? 
Why another bunk? Goin' t' take boarders? 
Any relations droppin' in t' attend our festivities 
up here ? " 

Ross looked over his shoulder laughingly. 
“ Nope. Give another guess." 

Sandy came nearer. Waymart shut the door 
and sat down beside the stove. Weimer turned 
his back on “ dem darned McKenzies," and put 
on his goggles that he might not be tormented by 
a view of their faces. It was a never-ending source 
of vexation to him that they came sociably to his 
shack. 

“ I haven't any more guesses in stock," declared 
Sandy, but the smile on his face was succeeded by 
a frown and he bit his red beard restlessly. 

“ Hired man is coming to-morrow," Ross in- 
165 


ROSS GRANT 


formed him as the hammer sent another nail home 
in the side wall. 

“ Hired man ! exploded Sandy. Where the 
deuce will you get a hired man ? 

“ Right here in the valley/’ exulted Ross. Les- 
lie Jones.” 

Leslie Jones I ” repeated Sandy. 

Leslie Jones,” muttered Waymart. 

By and by,” Ross confessed, “ when all you 
fellows go below, it will seem a little more livable 
up here to have a third one around. I’d pay a 
man wages just to stay here to say nothing of 
working for me.” 

Neither Sandy nor Waymart made any comment. 
Sandy stood watching the work in silence, while 
Waymart allowed his pipe to go out. Then both 
departed. They said they were going up to see 
Wilson, but Ross noticed that they returned to 
their own cabin instead. 

Something doesn’t seem to please our friends 
the enemy,” he chuckled after their departure. 
“ They see the Weimer-Grant claims getting fur- 
ther and further from their reach.” 

“ Ve vill peat dem McKenzies yet,” gloated Wei- 
mer rubbing his hands gently on his knees. ‘‘ Ven 
dot Oder poy comes de work vill run und jump I ” 

Ross did not see the McKenzies again until 
Leslie was occupying the third bunk, Wilson hav- 

i66 


TENDERFOOT 


ing, good-naturedly, sent him down within a week 
after the boys had completed their bargain. 

** Clear out if ye want to,’^ Wilson had said 
kindly. It^s white of ye t^ leave the grub. I 
hain’t a cent t^ pay fer it. There’s a fortune in 
these claims of mine, but it’s too late t’ dig it out 

this year. Next summer ” and he was launched 

on the glowing prospects for the next season. 

Leslie entered on his task with a grim determi- 
nation which seemed foreign to his disposition. 

I don’t want you to get sick of your bargain 
the first week,” he said one day in answer to 
Ross’s remonstrance when he refused to stop work 
on account of a bruise on his wrist. You open 
up that little emergency chest and I can go on dig- 
ging just the same. I don’t want any delayed 
wages in mine I ” 

With the advent of Leslie, life fell into pleas- 
anter grooves in Weimer’s cabin. Despite the 
anxiety ever present with the newcomer, and de- 
spite his natural reserve, Ross’s exuberance of 
spirits caused by his presence and work affected 
him, and after the supper dishes were washed, the 
two boys wrestled, chaffed each other or talked, 
Ross about his father and uncle and aunt, Leslie 
about his school life in Omaha. 

'' It’s a boys’ school,” he explained one day, ‘^a 
military academy. I’ve had to go there ever since 
167 


ROSS GRANT 


I was knee high to a grasshopper. Discipline is 
fierce. I hate it, and this year I made up my 
mind I^d not stand it, so I^m here.” 

And wish,” ventured Ross, that you were 
back in school again.” 

<< Yes — almost,” Leslie began impulsively and 
then paused, adding quietly, “ Lots of things I 
wish, and wish ^em hard.” 

The following evening after supper, Weimer 
tumbled into his bunk at once and began snoring. 
The two boys washed the dishes, in silence at first. 
Outside, snow was falling heavily. Through the 
drifting fiakes the McKenzies^ light shone fitfully. 
The brothers had been away again hunting and 
had just returned. 

As Leslie set the dishes on their shelf above the 
stove he glanced uneasily out of the window. He 
had not seen the McKenzies for some time. Ever 
since they had crossed the valley that noon on 
their snow-shoes, their hunting trophies on their 
shoulders, he had watched their cabin with that 
same air of uneasy abstraction. 

Ross,” he broke out at last, Vve got to tell 
you something. I hate like a dog to tell it, but 
it's got to break loose some time and it may as well 
be right now.” 

He turned from the shelf, glanced at the snoring 
Weimer, lowered his voice, and, standing beside 

i68 


TENDERFOOT 


the stove, worked restlessly at the damper in 
the pipe. Ross, without looking at him, slowly 
scrubbed the dish-pan and then the table. 

‘‘ It’s like this,” Leslie began. When I met 
Wilson I had five hundred dollars in my pocket 
and a grouch against my father. Always before 
then, father had sent the Academy a check to pay 
for the semester — you have to pay there in advance 
for half the year — but this year he had business on 
hand that couldn’t be interrupted and so he called 
me into his office in a great hurry the morning I 
left home and handed over the check to me. It 
was made out to me and it was for five hundred 
dollars. That’s the price of the half year, you see. 
Dad handed it over and just said, * Here, pay your 
own bill,’ and got out. That’s about all that’s 
ever between us, anyway. Well, I went up to 
Omaha. We’d had it out about school all summer. 
I was bound not to go this year, and he swore that 
I should go and go through college if he had to 
rope me and tie me and take me himself, as he put 
it ! Father is a whirlwind of a man. But I was 
bound not to go, and the money let me out. I 
took the check and cashed it at the bank and went 
to the ‘ Hill House,’ where I met Wilson. I rea- 
soned that the money was mine because it was to 
be spent on me. You see, Ross, I was mad enough 
to reason anything my way that I wanted.” 

169 


ROSS GRANT 


Leslie turned the damper absently, sending 
smoke in gusts into the room, but neither boy no- 
ticed it. Ross wiped out his dish-pan, hung it on 
its nail, and sitting down on a box, took his chin 
between his hands and stared at the fire. 

I thought,’^ Leslie went on, that I^d invest 
that mon^y and surprise dad. Well,’’ grimly, 
he’s probably as surprised by this time as I am. 
You’ve heard Wilson tell about my meeting him 
and agreeing to go with him. I spent the entire 
five hundred on our outfit and car-fare in the ex- 
pectation that in six weeks I could write to dad 
and tell him what a success I’d made of it ! I had 
six weeks’ grace.” 

Ross looked up inquiringly. ‘^What do you 
mean ? ” 

Father and I never have corresponded exten- 
sively, but he always looks sharply after my re- 
ports. The first report goes out from the Academy 
in six weeks after school opens. I reckoned from 
what Wilson said that we’d strike it rich up here 
in a month more or less, and so about the time 
father would be looking into the reason why no 
report was sent from the Academy, he’d be receiv- 
ing one from me up here and, you know, Ross, 
^ nothing succeeds as well as success,’ and success 
of this sort would get dad right under the collar. 
Well, he probably knows by this time that I’ve 
170 


TENDERFOOT 


turned up missing at school, and he has not re- 
ceived a letter from Meadow Creek telling about 
the discovery of free gold ! 

Leslie gave the damper a final twist and sat 
down on a pile of fire-wood. “ Ross,'' he exclaimed 
violently, I am about seven ways an everlasting 
fool I " 

Ross grinned cheerfully. Aunt Anne always 
says that to find out that you're a fool ‘ is the best 
cure for the disease of foolishness.' So you see 
you're headed toward the cure already." 

Leslie shook his head. ^‘There's that money, 
Ross. It wasn't mine, and you know it and I 
know it. I can't face dad again without it in my 
hand. Why, I wouldn't see him until I'd earned 
it for — well, wild horses wouldn't drag me," he 
concluded passionately. I tell you, Ross, I've let 
myself in for a heap of trouble. I know father." 

Now that he finds out you've skipped, Leslie, 
won't he be hunting you up ? " 

Leslie stirred uneasily and turning stretched up 
and looked in the direction of the McKenzies. 
“ That's what I'm expecting, or else he'll not think 
me worth while. I tell you, Ross, I've made dad 
no end of trouble both at home and in school. 
Things look sort of different up here. I've — well 
— I've never been up against it before." 

Are you going to send your father word ? " 


ROSS GRANT 


''Send him word before I get back that five 
hundred ! '' cried Leslie aghast. " You don’t know 
dad. I can’t face him without it. Not much.” 

" But he’d see that you feel different ” Ross 

began. 

" You don’t know dad,” Leslie cut in harshly. 
" With the men it’s just the same. It’s ' stand and 
deliver’ or get out, and he’d treat me just the 
same.” 

The coming of the McKenzies put an end to 
further conversation. They came to announce 
their departure on the morrow. 

" Any little thing you’d like us t’ git fer you ? ” 
Sandy asked the boys lazily. " Want us t’ bring 
ye any biled shirts or one of these here coats with 
long handled tails ? If you fellers lay out t’ stay 
here all winter ye better lay in a stock of society 
rags, ’n’ dancin’ shoes.” 

" About the most useful dancing shoes we’ll need 
will be snow-shoes, I guess,” Ross retorted. 

Leslie, from the wood-pile, said little but watched 
the brothers closely. Neither paid more than a 
passing attention to him, concentrating their re- 
marks on Ross. They left early and went up the 
Creek with the intention of paying a farewell call 
on Wilson. 

" I don’t believe,” said Leslie the following 
morning as he watched them take the trail leading 
172 


TENDERFOOT 


over Crosby, that they have ever seen me before. 
They don't act as though they have, do they ? " 

“ Haven't seen a sign of it since that first 
night," declared Ross, ‘^and yet what I over- 
heard, you know " 

Must have referred to you," returned Leslie 
with conviction. 

The next three days passed quietly enough. 
The inhabitants of Weimer's cabin heard an 
occasional blast from Wilson's claims, but did not 
see Wilson. Steadily the two boys worked and 
steadily Ross held Weimer to his labors. Usually 
it was Weimer who got the meals, either Ross or 
Leslie leading him down to the shack, in case the 
sun shone, about half-past eleven. In three- 
quarters of an hour the boys would leave work 
and sit down to a substantial meal of hot bread, 
potatoes and all sorts of canned meats and vege- 
tables. But the third day after the McKenzies' 
departure it chanced that when eleven o'clock 
came, Weimer and Leslie were in the far end of 
the tunnel drilling the cut in " holes for a new 
blast, and Ross, pushing the little car back into 
the tunnel, sang out : 

Hey, you fellows, keep on and I'll go down 
and shake up the grub this time." 

He ran down the trail to the cabin, and soon 
had a roaring fire in the heater. A kettle of beans 
i;3 


ROSS GRANT 


had been left simmering on the back of the stove. 
This Ross pulled forward, and then, delving 
among the canned goods, he proceeded to set out 
various edibles, all the while whistling cheer- 
fully. 

“ M-m, tomatoes,^’ he interrupted himself to 
mutter, we havenT had tomatoes in two days. 
And corn — sweet corn. Guess Weimer has over- 
looked the corn entirely. We’ll have corn. Soup I 
Jiminy ! We haven’t had soup in an age. Vege- 
table. That means a little of everything, and that 
taken boiling hot. Here goes soup.” 

Whoa ! ” came a deep voice from the trail out- 
side the door, then the voice was raised, Hello ! 
Who’s t’ home?” 

Ross stepped to the door and faced a middle 
aged man, clad in leather chaps ” and short fur 
coat. A fur cap was drawn down over his ears 
and his hands were encased in huge fur gloves. 
He sat easily on a gray horse and was leading 
another, a mottled brown and white. As Ross 
appeared, he drew off one glove and slipped the 
hand carelessly under the tail of his coat at the 
same time squaring about in his saddle so that he 
faced the doorway. 

Ross, in his shirt sleeves, stepped out and 
greeted the newcomer hospitably. ‘‘ Hello I Come 
in to dinner.” 


174 


TENDERFOOT 


“ Had mine down in Miners’ Camp,” returned 
the other with a backward jerk of his head. 

He touched his mount with his spur and came 
close to Ross. The brown and white horse pulled 
back obstinately on the leading rope. The animal 
was saddled. 

Are you the young chap that’s workin’ for 
Weimer?” 

Yes.” 

“ All right.” The stranger withdrew his hand 
from the tail of his coat. It held a gun. ** No 
monkey-shines now I You’re the boy I’m after. 
I’m the sheriff of Big Horn County, and I have a 
warrant here for your arrest. Your father is 
honin’ to meet up with you and settle a little 
account of money taken in Omaha.” 


175 


CHAPTER IX 


SURPRISES 

For a moment Ross was stunned. His hands 
fell nervelessly at his side, and he stared up at the 
stranger with expressionless eyes. Then, as the 
situation dawned on him, his eyes suddenly nar- 
rowed and into them leaped a light that caused 
the other to move the gun suggestively and say 
warningly : 

No monkeying allowed, understand. Swallow 
a bite right now and climb up here on this other 
horse.^^ 

Ross looked over his shoulder speculatively. 
From his position he could see the mouth of the 
tunnel on the mountainside behind the cabin. 
The mouth showed up black and empty and from 
its depth came the muffled sound of the hand 
drills wielded by Weimer and Leslie. The trail 
leading over the mountain to Miners^ Camp was 
screened from the mouth of the tunnel by hem- 
locks. It could be seen only from the end of the 
dump. Ross thought fast. 

‘‘ All right, he said finally. I’ll go with you 
176 


TENDERFOOT 


now — and quietly. There^s no objection, I sup- 
pose, to my leaving a note for — Weimer ? 

No doubt existed in his mind as to the legality 
of the warrant and the seriousness of purpose in 
the man before him ; therefore, he asked no further 
questions. Moreover, he wished above all things 
to avoid question and get off before Leslie appeared 
on the scene. 

“ Leave a note, yes, or see ^im,^^ assented the 
sheriff. I’m willin’. Where is he? ” 

At work,” hastily. I’ll just leave a note.” 

The sheriff dismounted, dropped his bridle reins 
beside his horse’s head, hitched the second ani- 
mal’s rope about the pommel of his saddle, and 
followed Ross into the shack, repeating, Where 
at work ? ” 

** In the tunnel,” mumbled Ross. “ I would 
rather write a line than call him.” 

He picked up some cold biscuits left over from 
breakfast and stuffed them into his pockets. Then, 
drawing a box up to the table, he sat down with 
paper and pencil to write a note. To his con- 
fusion, the sheriff stood over him looking on. He 
moistened the point of his pencil slowly. What 
on earth could he say that would make Leslie 
understand and yet not give the situation away to 
the sheriff? To gain time he gnawed on one of 
Weimer’s hard biscuits. 

177 


ROSS GRANT 


Where is my — father ? ” he asked finally, 
stumbling guiltily over the word. 

The sheriff spat out of the doorway and twirled 
his gun impatiently. You'll see 'im before I 
leave you, all right," was his ambiguous reply. 

And the sooner that is the better it'll suit me. 
Git busy, young man, with that pencil. I don't 
aim to go inf winter quarters here. We've got 
to go on to Cody." 

Ross bit his lips and laid the biscuit aside. His 
eyes narrowed until they were mere slits. Grasp- 
ing his pencil with a firmness he was far from 
feeling he began to write without preface. 

** The sheriff is here arresting me for stealing 
money from my father in Omaha. He is taking 
me to him in Cody now. I don't know when I 
can get back. Keep the work going sure, and 
don't worry. I think I will be able " 

He paused and moistened the pencil again, then 
crossed out the last sentence and substituted : 

I shall try to reason with him and make him 
see that he had better let me keep on doing what I 
am doing and earn the money to pay him back." 

Another instant Ross paused and thought. 
Then he added the singular explanation which 
he believed would make the foregoing more 
lucid to Leslie : 

“ As I write the sherifi* is standing over me," 
178 


TENDERFOOT 


and then bethought himself just in time to avoid 
signing his name. 

Huh 1 grunted the sheriff reading the last 
sentence. So he is ; and now hustle ! ” 

Ross hustled most willingly. Seizing his top- 
coat and cap he was ready in a few moments for 
the perilous journey over the Crosby trail. Silently 
he mounted the brown and white horse, all the 
time glancing anxiously at the mouth of the 
tunnel. He rode in front of the sheriff and 
slyly urged his horse forward until the inter- 
vening trees hid the mouth of the tunnel from 
which still issued the steady grind and thud of 
the drills. 

It was not until the two horses were cautiously 
feeling their way down the perilous trail, and Ross 
saw far below him the shacks of Miners' Camp that 
some of the difficulties of his sudden venture began 
to present themselves to him. His decision had 
been made so hurriedly that he had had no time 
to think all around the subject of the arrest and 
his own action. It had seemed to him outrageous 
that a father should arrest his own son even though 
that boy had done wrong. Ross revolted at the 
idea. 

I don't wonder," he thought, that Less is 
afraid of his father. But his fear wouldn't sit 
so hard on his temper but what there'd be no 
179 


ROSS GRANT 

end of explosions, and then where would they 
both get to ? ^’ 

It was the thought of this state of affairs that 
had led Ross to the impulsive determination to 
go to that father and ask for a few months of 
grace for the son. In this, as he acknowledged to 
himself, he had a mixed motive and part of the 
mixture was not unselfish. 

‘‘ If he’ll only let Leslie stay and help me 
through the winter and earn the money,” was 
his thought, “ if I can make him see that Leslie’s 
no quitter, and that he knows he has made a big 
mistake and is willing to bone down and undo it 
— if I can only make him see ! ” 

It was here that Ross’s misgivings began. He 
knew he was no talker and evidently, as Leslie 
said, the father was a man of violent temper. 

I’ll probably have my little trip under arrest 
for nothing,” Ross told himself as they reached 
the foot of Crosby. ‘‘ Mr. Jones will blow my 
head off and send back for Leslie. Queer father 
not to come himself instead of sending a sheriff 
and a warrant and so disgrace his own son I ” 

As to who was responsible for notifying the 
father of the whereabouts of his son, Ross did 
not for a moment doubt. Sandy’s trip to Cody 
and the departure a few days before of both 
brothers answered that question to his satisfaction. 
i8o 


TENDERFOOT 


At the foot of Crosby the trail of horsemen 
turned into the wagon trail leading past Calebs 
Ridge. On foot approaching them was a man 
whom Ross had met often in Steele^s shack, and 
the sight of him awoke the boy with a shock to 
another phase of the situation that he had not, so 
far, had time to consider. Of course, it would not 
be possible for him to reach Cody and Mr. Jones 
without betraying his identity to the sheriff! 
There were the men of Gale's Ridge, the hotel at 
Meeteetse, and above all, there was Sagehen Roost 
and Hank. He turned in his saddle. It was a 
waste of time to go on. He might as well own up 
and let the sheriff go back after Leslie. 

I was foolish to think of coming 1 " he muttered 
aloud and reined in his horse. 

The sheriff, coming on behind with his head 
bent, looked up questioningly and rode alongside. 
The two had not exchanged a word since leaving 
the Creek, the sheriff being silent by nature and 
Ross by choice. At that instant, the footman 
passed them. On the sheriff he bestowed an 
unrecognizing nod, on Ross a broad and cordial 
grin. 

Hello, there. Doc 1 he greeted and passed on. 

The sheriff glanced in surprise from the man to 
Ross. The latter drew a deep breath, and squaring 
about on his saddle shook the bridle reins. “ That's 

i8i 


ROSS GRANT 

a nickname they Ve given me/' he muttered and 
rode on. 

The sheriff nodded and fell back, leaving Ross 
determined to play the game as far as he was able. 
He had forgotten that he was known from Cody to 
Meeteetse as “Doc Tenderfoot." In a few moments 
they had passed through camp and, rounding the 
shoulder of old Dundee, settled down to the 
eighteen mile ride to the half-way house between 
Miners' Camp and Meeteetse. This house, as Ross 
knew, had changed hands since his arrival in the 
mountains, and the change would lessen the 
chances that he would be recognized there. As it 
turned out, the sheriff was not recognized either, 
the family being newcomers in Wyoming, and the 
two ate in silence, the sheriff introducing neither 
himself nor Ross. 

“ Luck is with me so far," Ross thought as they 
saddled and rode away from the ranch, “ but how 
can I ever get past Meeteetse and Sagehen Roost ? " 

The moon shone brilliantly, and they pushed 
ahead rapidly, Ross exulting over the sheriff's 
determination to get on to Meeteetse that night. 
They rode as silently as before, Ross in advance. 
The black hills met the trail on either side, and 
beside the trail flowed the shallow waters of Wood 
River until it merged into the Grey Bull. Half- 
way to Meeteetse, the sheriff’s horse stumbled and 
182 


TENDERFOOT 


limped thereafter, necessitating a slower pace, so 
that it was nearly midnight before they drew rein 
in front of the Weller House.” 

To Ross’s relief, the place was dark with the ex- 
ception of a single lamp in the office. Even the 
barroom was deserted. Ross left the sheriff to 
register for both, and then followed the sleepy 
clerk down to a lunch of cold come-backs ” 
which that individual “ rustled ” from the kitchen 
himself. 

If fortune will favor me as well to-morrow as 
it did to-day,” Ross thought as he listened to the 
sheriff’s first snores, “ I’ll be next to Jones by this 
time to-morrow night and try to do some talking 
for Leslie ! ” 

He knew that his roommate was no wiser con- 
cerning him than when they started from Meadow 
Creek, and he most heartily desired a continuation 
of that ignorance. 

In the morning the two were up early and down 
to breakfast. Ross looked about apprehensively 
for some one who had seen him on his way into 
the mountains. He slunk into the dining-room 
in the wake of the bulkier sheriff and pushing 
himself unobtrusively into a corner seat bent low 
over his plate as befitted a young man under 
arrest. But no sooner was he seated than the 
proprietor of the house spied him from the other 
183 


ROSS GRANT 

end of the dining-room, and with never a suspicion 
that he was talking to the sheriff's prisoner, strode 
across the room. He slapped the sheriff familiarly 
on the shoulder : 

What the dickens are you doing up this way ? 
Why don^t ye stay in Basin where ye belong? ” 

Then he grasped Ross's hand cordially : 

‘‘ Bless us if here ain't Doc back again. Got 
them claims cleaned up yet, Doc ? " 

Ross, encountering the puzzled eyes of the sheriff, 
quaked. No, we haven't yet," he muttered and 
glancing toward the dining-room door, exclaimed 
in sudden inspiration, “ Wonder if that man is 
motioning to you ? " 

The proprietor looked around. Several men 
were in the hall outside the dining-room. “ I’ll 
go and see," he exclaimed. 

The sheriff continued to look at Ross. Bluff! " 
he announced briefly and understandingly. 

The blood flooded Ross's face guiltily. It 
was," he confessed, adding quickly, ‘‘ Say, don't 
give my arrest away where I'm known, will 
you ? " 

Sis request and confusion satisfied the sheriff. 
The puzzled expression died out of his face. “ All 
right," he assented and fell on his breakfast. 

The proprietor did not see Ross again until he 
was riding away. Then he ran out of the barroom 
184 


TENDERFOOT 


bareheaded and called, Steele's in Cody, Doc. He 
said you was pannin' out more like an old pros- 
pector than a tenderfoot." 

The sheriff rode up beside his prisoner with a 
quick inquiry : How long have ye worked for 

Weimer ? " 

‘‘ Long enough to be sick of it and want to quit," 
returned Ross gruffly, giving his horse a quick 
slap that set the animal to loping. It was no part 
of his plan to hold any unnecessary conversation 
with the sheriff that day. 

“ I guess," the latter called as he came gallop- 
ing after, that you'll quit now all right, all 
right ! " 

Ross made no reply, but took care to keep well 
in advance of his captor. Although his plan had, 
so far, succeeded, he was far from feeling trium- 
phant because of a distressing sense of guilt at the 
deception he was obliged to practice. Nor was he 
able to dispel this sense by the knowledge that he 
was acting for the good of all concerned. 

'' I may be only messing things up more than 
they are already," he thought dejectedly as they 
approached Sagehen Roost. “ What under the 
sun led me to think I was equal to such a job, 
anyway ? " 

Then, suddenly, his eyes narrowed, his chin 
raised itself determinedly and he turned his atten- 
185 


ROSS GRANT 


tion to the half-way house and the loquacious 
Hank. How could he ever get past Hank and re- 
main Leslie Jones in the sheriff’s eyes ? If only he 
could get a moment’s speech with Hank alone. 
But the sheriff was ever at his elbow. They had 
made good time from Meeteetse, and so approached 
Dry Creek and Sagehen Roost a full hour ahead of 
the stage from Cody. This fact gave Ross cour- 
age. With the stage-driver eliminated he had 
only Hank to deal with. 

Hello, Hank I ” shouted the sheriff as they 
dismounted in front of the corral. Shake us up 
some grub right away, will ye ? ” 

Hank appeared at the door. Ross dodged be- 
hind the sheriff’s horse, and stooping over noted 
the approach of Hank’s legs. When they had 
borne their owner to the corral gate he straightened 
up and saying loudly : Hello, Hank I ” scratched 
the flank of the horse sharply with a pin he had 
found under the lapel of his coat. 

Wall, if there ain’t Doc Tenderfoot I ” shouted 
Hank, but got no further. 

The horse leaped forward, and, as the sheriff 
sprang for its head, Ross managed to get Hank’s 
ear for an instant : 

Don’t give me away, Hank. Talk to him 
and let me alone — understand — no names called. 
Don’t talk to me nor about me.” 

1 86 


TENDERFOOT 


Hank stared his amazement, helped the sheriff 
catch his mount, scratched his head until Rosses 
words had soaked in, and then obeyed them so 
literally that when, half an hour later, Ross leaped 
to his horse’s back, he was still Leslie Jones to the 
taciturn sheriff, and Hank, tongue-tied for once, 
was left standing beside the corral gate with a 
multitude of questions unasked. 

Ross’s spirits arose. They were on the home 
stretch now to Cody. There was not a house on 
the way and only the stage to meet. Ross, forget- 
ting his role as a shamefaced prisoner, began to 
whistle and plan what he should say to Leslie’s 
father. His buoyancy was checked only when he 
chanced to look over his shoulder and discovered 
the sheriff looking at him not only with the puz- 
zled air which he had worn at Meeteetse, but, Ross 
thought, with suspicion also. 

“ I never seen a sober man arrested that took 
arrest as you do,”1:he sheriff declared riding to 
Ross’s side. ‘‘ Think this is a little picnic, don’t 
ye?” 

“ I’m trying to think just how it will turn out,” 
answered the boy seriously. There’s the Cody 
stage, isn’t it ? ” 

The sheriff reined his horse back, and, with a 
flourish, the four horses swept past with Andy’s 
foot jammed hard on the brake and Andy’s whip 
187 


ROSS GRANT 


cracking over the wheeler^s heads. Just in the 
nick of time he recognized Ross. 

Hi, there ! he shouted. Doc, whereas yer 
patient ? And how is he ? 

Then, before any answer could be returned, the 
Stage was beyond reach of Ross’s voice, disappear- 
ing in a cloud of dust. 

“ What patient does he mean ? ” asked the sher- 
iff. 

“ It’s a fellow I helped when I first came out 
here,” answered Ross frankly. He was afraid of 
the sheriff’s suspicions. “ He was hurt in front of 
Sagehen Roost, and as I know something about 
surgery I — helped — to fix him up.” 

The sheriff studied his horse’s ears. A look of 
perplexity overspread his face. I heard of that 
down in Basin. But it seems to me that was be- 
fore you come.” He looked hard at Ross. The 

McKenzies said ” He stopped suddenly, and 

bit his lips. 

Ross seized this pause to mutter, “ It’s not so 
long ago,” and forged ahead on the trail, taking 
good care to keep ahead until the lights of Cody 
and the odor of the Shoshone River — Stinking 
Water ” — smote their senses together through the 
gathering darkness of the early December night. 
Then the sheriff, straightening in his saddle, said 
in a voice of authority : 

i88 


TENDERFOOT 


“ Come back here. Well ride neck and neck 
now.” 

Ross fell back, and asked his first question, and 
no sooner was it out than he bit his lips savagely 
in vexation at his own thoughtlessness. 

Is Mr. Jones stopping at ‘ The Irma ^ ” 

“Who?” exploded the sheriff. 

“ Mr. Jones,” murmured Ross in confusion. 

The sheriff looked the boy over silently but in- 
tently in the moonlight. The blood surged into 
Ross’s face, and, despite the chill of the night wind, 
the perspiration broke out on his forehead. 

“ Huh I ” was the only response to his question. 
“ Jones I ” 

Then, with their horses neck to neck the two 
rode over the bridge together and for the second 
time entered the town to which Buffalo Bill has 
given his name, Cody. On the other side of the 
bridge, near the dust-deep road, stood a tent. The 
flap was fastened back, and, within, seated about a 
rough table, sat four men playing cards. When 
the sound of horses’ hoofs reached the players, one 
of them arose and came to the tent’s opening. 

It was Sandy McKenzie. 

The sheriff, still regarding Ross, did not look 
toward the tent, while Ross, excited over the pros- 
pect of meeting Leslie’s father, and confused by his 
recent misspeech, scarcely bestowed a moment’s 
189 


ROSS GRANT 


thought on Sandy, whom he had known was in 
Cody and believed to be the instigator of the arrest. 
He glanced, however, within the tent as they passed 
and recognized Waymart. The man sitting next, 
his back to the open flap, his face bent over the 
cards in his hand, one leg stretched out under the 
table, looked strangely familiar to the boy, but he 
was too preoccupied to give him any attention. 
The fourth man, his face turned toward the riders, 
was a stranger. 

A moment later, a man took the horses in front 
of The Irma,’^ and the sherifi* with his prisoner 
walked into the lobby and up to the desk. Pick- 
ing up the pen, the sheriff thrust it into Rosses 
hand. 

Register for yourself,^’ he commanded briefly. 

Ross hesitated, glanced at the waiting clerk, 
glanced at the suspicious face of the sherifi* and 
then, with a shaking hand, wrote : “ Ross Grant, 
Junior,” and laid the pen down. 

The sheriff drew the register toward him with a 
slowly purpling face. 

“ That's my name,” declared Ross. He spoke 
defensively, yet with a ring of exultation in his 
voice. You haven’t asked me for it before.” 

The blood dropped out of the sherifi*’s face. The 
shivers ran down Ross’s spine at the anger in his 
face. 


190 


TENDERFOOT 


** What does this mean, you cub ! ” the sheriff 
demanded furiously. 

“ It means that I want to talk to Leslie Jones^ 
father before he sees Leslie,” announced Ross 
boldly, ** so I came with you. There was nothing 
to prevent my coming.” 

A hand fell on the sheriff's shoulder. Sandy 
McKenzie stood at Ross's elbow. Sandy's face 
wore a curiously baffled expression, but he 
nodded to Ross in much his usual nonchalant 
manner. 

‘‘Hello, Doc, you here? Didn't expect to see 
you. How'd you leave Leslie Jones?” 

There was an emphasis on the last name which 
Ross did not notice. Neither did he notice the 
shrewd observation in the questioner's eyes. 

“ I left him busy,” the boy returned glibly, “ and 
so did the sheriff I ” 

Once more the blood rushed into the sheriff’s 
face, and in unselected language he had begun to 
tell Ross what he thought of him, when Sandy 
succeeded in drawing him aside and leading him 
into the barroom, followed by Waymart and a 
group that the conversation had attracted. 

After they had disappeared, Ross turned to the 
clerk. “Is Mr. Jones stopping here?” he asked 
confidently. 

“ Nope,” responded the clerk, leaning an elbow 
191 


ROSS GRANT 

on the ledger. What was it you put over the 
sheriff? 

Not here I Ross exclaimed, not hearing the 
question. ^‘Did you understand the name? I 
want to see Mr. Jones.^^ In his anxiety he raised 
his voice. 

The clerk grinned. “ There ainT no man here 
by the name of Jones.” 

“ But there must be,” Ross insisted stupidly. 
There^s got to be I This is the only hotel in 
town, isn’t it? ” 

“ Yep,” grinned the clerk. It’s the original 
Waldorf- As tory all right. Where does this here 
Jones hail from ? ” 

“ Omaha.” There was unlimited dismay in 
Ross’s tone. 

Hain’t got any one from Omaha here, and 
hain’t had this winter.” 

Ross pulled the register toward him and began 
to scan the names. Instantly he exclaimed. 
Bully ! Steele. I’d forgotten him. I’ll see ” 

Not this trip ! ” the clerk interrupted lazily. 
Ye must ’a’ met Steele. He went back on the 
stage to-night.” 

“ Leonard, then. He’s here, isn’t he ? ” 

'' Nope,” replied the clerk nonchalantly. “ He’s 
in Basin. Home’s there, ye know.” 

Baffled, perplexed, Ross turned again to the 
192 


TENDERFOOT 

register. The clerk had told the truth. There 
had been no guest entered from Omaha or any 
place further away than Montana in weeks. ** See 
here/^ he exclaimed finally, “ do you know any- 
thing about Leslie Jones, that went over to 
Meadow Creek with a man named Wilson a few 
weeks ago ? ” 

The clerk leisurely turned the pages until he 
arrived at the entry sought. ** Here they be,^^ 
he pushed the book across the counter. Wilson 
and Jones. They stayed here most a week. 
Knew Wilson and remember Jones when he 
was here.^^ 

And hasn't his father been here ? " asked Ross 
eagerly. “ Not at any time ? " 

Nope." 

Haven't you — haven't you heard from him at 
any time or — or known about him ? I've got to 
see the father," Ross burst out in irrepressible 
confidence born of his distraction. “ I've stopped 
work and come all the way down from the Sho- 
shones to talk with Jones." 

“Can't help it. Don't know anything about 
any Jones except this young one." 

At this point the clerk was called into the 
dining-room. He left Ross standing beside the 
desk staring at the register, confused and help- 
less. 


193 


ROSS GRANT 


** And right here I got the big head over the 
way I had managed/^ he told himself in humilia- 
tion, and at the very last minute gave the whole 
thing away I 

Why couldn’t he have had the sense to play the 
game far enough to see the end — and Leslie’s 
father, he asked himself miserably. Now he had 
simply made a fool of himself and angered the 
sheriff and had not benefited Leslie. The sheriff 
would probably turn about and go back after the 
right boy. With this thought Ross straightened 
his shoulders determinedly and turned toward the 
barroom. As there was nothing to be gained by 
silence he was going to ask questions. As he 
turned, a man slid into the hotel in advance of 
him — the man with the oddly familiar back. 

The sheriff, Sandy and Waymart were standing 
together, and toward them Ross made his way 
through clouds of tobacco smoke and past groups 
of cowboys, railroad men and prospectors. 

“ Hi, Doc I ” called Sandy gaily. Hump along 
here and be sociable. What’ll you have ? It’s on 
me. Anybody,” admiringly, that’s smart enough 
t’ fool the sheriff of Big Horn County can have 
anything on me they’ll take.” 

The sheriff turned his back on Sandy and 
scowled. He did not glance at his late prisoner. 

“ I don’t want anything,” declared Ross shortly. 

194 


TENDERFOOT 


He planted himself resolutely in front of Sandy. 

But I'd like to know where Leslie Jones' father 
is ? " 

Sandy smiled easily, while the scowl faded from 
the sheriff's face. 

I ain't no city directory, Doc," responded 
Sandy, ''and what's more, I ain't knowin' of 
any Leslie Jones ! His end name ain't any more 
Jones than yours is. He's fooled ye mighty bad — 
see ? " 

The blood rushed to Ross's face. " N-not 
Jones?" he stammered. "Not Jones I What is 
it then ? " 

" Why, Doc, if he don't want ye t' know I ain't 
got a call t' tell ye. Be reasonable." Sandy spoke 
with maddening pleasantry and condescension. 
" A feller's name is his own, and if he wants t' 
keep it kinda fresh and unused I ain't the one t' 
dig it up 'n' let it get covered with dust. Better 
go back t' Meadow Creek and have it out with 
Leslie." 

Ten minutes later, Ross, with a hot and angry 
face, was back in the lobby. His indignation 
burned against Leslie, who had, unconsciously, 
helped to put him in the hole in which he found 
himself. The subdued laugh which had marked 
his retreat from the barroom rang long in his 
ears. The sheriff's laugh was the loudest. 

195 


ROSS GRANT 


Arrest will serve him right ! muttered Ross 
as he entered the dining-room. There isn’t a 
reason on earth why he shouldn’t have told me 
his right name when he told me the rest.” 

Angrily Ross ate his supper, glowering down at 
his plate and not noticing the entrance of the 
McKenzies with the sheriff. 

After supper he went up to his room. The door 
was unlocked, the key having been long since lost. 
A single electric bulb swinging over the dresser 
was alight. Under the bulb lay a sealed and 
soiled envelope. Ross picked it up and turning 
it over came on the direction, “ Doc Tenderfoot,” 
in a sprawling and carefully careless hand. Won- 
deringly he opened the envelope. Within was a 
note written with a lead pencil on the back of a 
yellow advertising sheet. It ran : 

Leslie’s name is Quinn, not Jones. His father 
is A. B. Quinn, North Bend, Okla., or 14 Castle 
Street, Omaha. He is in Omaha now waiting 
for Leslie. Sheriff is to send him there. Mum is 
the word about this note — to him or Leslie or the 
McKenzies. If I did not know you were on the 
square you would not get it to be mum about.” 


196 


CHAPTER X 


A NEWCOMER ON MEADOW CREEK 

“ * Old man Quinn I ’ Ross cried aloud. 
‘‘ ‘ Old man Quinn ' and the sheep war. And 
Leslie is his son ! ” 

It all came back, the story he had almost for- 
gotten in the stress of events on Meadow Creek, 
the conversation on the train, old Sheepy^s tale 
and, at last, his suspicions concerning Lon Weston 
with his dyed hair. And when his memory 
brought Lon into mental view, Ross’s face lit up 
with a sudden flash of intelligence. 

** It was Weston that I saw in the tent, and it 
was Weston that went into the barroom ahead of 
me I ” 

He laid the note on the dresser and, bending 
under the electric light, studied it. There was 
nothing to show who had written it except the 
caution at the end. That might have emanated 
from Waymart, but the language was better than 
he would have used. Ross felt that it was Lon 
Weston who had written that message. Of course, 
if such was the case, and Lon was the fourth whom 
197 


ROSS GRANT 


old man Quinn was looking for, that warning not 
to give the unsigned writer away would be ac- 
counted for. It might, in some way, be the clew 
that would lead to Lon’s detection. Ross now re- 
called how Lon had lain with one arm over his 
face all the time that Wilson and Leslie had been 
at the stage camp. He could not now recall 
whether or not the injured man’s name had been 
spoken in Leslie’s presence. But he did remember 
that Leslie had said of the McKenzies that perhaps 
they were men at some time in his father’s employ, 
in which case he might not know them, but that 
they would probably recognize him. 

‘‘ Then if he had heard Weston’s name it might 
not mean anything to Leslie,” Ross concluded. 

He wondered why Lon had not made himself 
known that evening and wondered how he came to 
know the McKenzies. In fact, he sat on the side 
of his bed wondering about a dozen things until 
midnight, and then went to bed undecided what 
to do now that he had Quinn’s address in his 
possession. His resentment kindled against Leslie 
whenever he thought of the latter’s deception 
about his name. And the probabilities were that 
a letter from him, Ross, would not move the father 
to clemency. 

In this undecided state of mind, Ross strolled 
into the lobby the following morning, considering 
198 


TENDERFOOT 


how he could best kill time until the stage started 
for Meeteetse that evening. As he was standing 
in front of a window, his hands deep in his pockets, 
the sheriff and Sandy rode past, followed by 
Waymart. Neither the sheriff nor Waymart 
looked his way. But Sandy did, and, grinning, 
raised his hand in a graceful salute. Ross, nod- 
ding, felt his anger at Sandy dying. Distrust him 
as he must, Ross could not dislike him. In this 
strange state of mind, however, the boy was by no 
means alone throughout the length and breadth 
of Big Horn County. 

“ They^re going now after the right chap,^’ 
thought Ross, and a wave of sympathy for Leslie 
began to wash away his resentment. 

In the end, he spent the greater part of the day 
composing a letter to old man Quinn, wherein he 
set forth Leslie^s position, prospects and altered 
feelings in bald statements containing but few 
adjectives. In explaining who the writer was he 
gave a brief account of his connection with the 
sheriff. Between the acts of composing, tearing 
up, and rewriting the composition, he searched 
Cody for Lon Weston, but could not find him. 

When, that evening, he climbed into the stage 
behind Andy, he had sent the letter to Leslie^s 
father and had not caught a glimpse of Weston. 

At the stage camp he was the butt of much con- 
199 


ROSS GRANT 

gratulation and derision from the hilarious Hank. 
“ Say, you made the sheriff mad as a hornet, but 
he had t’ own up ye cheated hm out of a year’s 
growth. Sandy set the hull thing out in good 
shape. But why didn’t ye stick t’ yer job instid 
of layin’ down ’n’ kickin’ up yer heels before the 
time?” 

Because I’m no good. Hank, this side of the 
Mississippi River,” returned Ross in humility of 
spirit. “ Don’t knock me — you can’t get ahead of 
me in that respect I I’ve kicked myself all over 
Cody to-day.” 

The following morning, at Meeteetse, he joined 
Bill Travers and the Miners’ Camp stage and 
started on the all day’s journey into the moun- 
tains. At noon, he began looking for the sheriff 
and Leslie. He had calculated that they would 
meet the stage at the half-way ranch and there he 
would tell Leslie what he had written his father. 
But no Leslie appeared. All the afternoon during 
the stage’s progress into the mountains, Ross 
looked for the sheriff and his prisoner, but he 
looked in vain. 

At six o’clock. Bill Travers dropped his one 
passenger in front of Steele’s shack, and Ross, 
climbing Gale’s Ridge, opened the door on the 
superintendent in the act of sitting down to 
supper. 


200 


TENDERFOOT 


Hello, there ! ” cried Steele grasping the boy’s 
chilled hand. “ Here’s the best elk steak you ever 
planted your teeth in. Draw up and tell me wfiat 
you’ve been up to, skylarking off to Cody with the 
sheriff.” 

Ross followed directions, and soon was giving 
Steele the entire story of his capture and failure. 

Steele, forgetting to eat, alternated between 
amusement and amazement. By George, I don’t 
wonder that sheriff was mad I You see, Doc, he’s 
new to the business of being sheriff. You were 
his first arrest.” 

Probably if he were not so new he wouldn’t 
have been so easily fooled.” 

I can’t say,” retorted Steele, that he was 
easily fooled. Strikes me you were about as slow 
with him as greased lightning.” 

Ross flushed at the praise. It .was balm to his 
wounds in his self-esteem. 

Early the following morning, he started for 
Meadow Creek, and at the upper camp learned 
something for which he was unprepared and which 
was a source of temporary satisfaction to him. 

Leslie had disappeared. 

Until noon Ross lingered in camp watching the 
sheriff and Sandy pass and repass in their search 
for the runaway. Finally, just before noon, he 
saw them on snow-shoes striking out up Wood 
201 


ROSS GRANT 


River canon into the uninhabited wilderness 
beyond. Then he slowly mounted the dizzy trail 
leading to Weimer’s shack and the interrupted 
work. 

It must have been my note that warned him,” 
Ross thought as he watched the figures toiling up 
Wood River canon. I hope they have the chase 
of their lives,” he said aloud, and then I can 
patronize Sandy and stroke him down as he did 
me at ‘ The Irma ^ — provided I dare ! ” 

He found Weimer sitting beside the fire smok- 
ing and growling over the absence of both his as- 
sistants. 

Dot poy,” he explained, read dot paper you 
wrote and den vat does he do, hein? He says 
notings, aber he takes some tings and out he 
goes und leaves me mit der vork und mit mine 
eyes, und dey so pad ! ” 

This was the extent of the information he was 
able to give Ross concerning Leslie. Many griev- 
ances he had against the sheriff and dem Mc- 
Kenzies ” that had ransacked the premises and 
had ridden to and fro, over to Wilson's and round 
the mountains searching for traces of Leslie. 

As it turned out, they might have found a trace 
of him had they searched more thoroughly, for 
the following day, Ross, diving into the pocket of 
his slicker for some nails that he carried there, 
202 



BESIDE THE DYNAMITE BOX 




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TENDERFOOT 

came on a folded note pinned in the bottom of the 
pocket. 

All I understand from your letter/’ ran the 
note, is that it has given me a chance to make 
my getaway. It was a mighty white thing of 
you to do, and I appreciate it, though I know I 
haven’t acted that way. You’ve probably found 
out what my name is by this time. I didn’t tell 
you, because I was so dead ashamed about the 
whole matter that I hated to face myself and dis- 
grace the name. But I never thought father 
would do such a thing as he has, and so I shall 
clear out and stay cleared until he has stopped 
hunting. I know where I’m going, and you’ll see 
me in Meadow Creek after father goes back and 
has given me up. — ^Leslie Jones Quinn.” 

Ross, standing on the dump beside the dynamite 
box, a hammer in one hand, read the letter. At 
once all his remaining resentment against Leslie 
disappeared. I guess I would have done the 
same about the name in his place,” he concluded. 

Pinning the note in his pocket again for safe 
keeping he repaired the dynamite box. Then he 
entered the tunnel, where Weimer was once more 
at work drilling for a blast. 

'' Uncle Jake,” he asked, when did Leslie 
leave, what time in the day ? ” 

It vas not day, it vas night,” growled Weimer 
203 


ROSS GRANT 

wrestling with the drill. “ He vent avay mit 
darkness.*^ 

‘‘ That accounts/' said Ross, “ for his not having 
been seen in camp." 

He felt certain that Leslie would take refuge in 
the shack up Wood River canon where Wilson 
had stored some of the supplies in preparation for 
the winter's work on the coal claims. In this 
case he would be discovered, for it was in that 
direction that the sheriff and Sandy had gone as 
Ross was climbing the Crosby trail. Therefore, 
it was with anxiety that the boy looked for the 
return of the McKenzies. 

Darkness had fallen when he left the tunnel 
that night, and as he emerged from the trees that 
clustered about the dump, he saw a light in the 
McKenzie cabin. Without waiting for his supper, 
he crossed the little valley and rapped on the 
door. 

‘‘ Hello, Doc," came Sandy's voice from within. 
** Haul up the latch-string and show yerself. 
Cornin' to crow over us, ain't ye?" he continued 
as Ross entered. ^^Well, that ye can, fer we can’t 
find hide ner hair of Leslie, and the sheriff has hit 
the trail to Basin about as mad as they make 'em 
over the whole thing I " 

Here Sandy threw his head back and laughed 
as amusedly as though the entire affair were a joke 
204 


TENDERFOOT 


of his own manufacture. He did not seem to 
harbor the least resentment against Ross for having 
blocked the wheels of his game. Rather, he ap- 
plauded the blocking frankly, while Waymart 
smoked stolidly beside the table and said nothing. 

“ That little note that you left for Less is what 
done the business,” Sandy went on cheerfully re- 
viewing the situation. “ The sheriff had forgot 
that note Til we got up here and the bird wa’nT V 
be found in the hand ner the bush neither. That 
was a neat little trick. Doc, almost as neat as the 
way ye come it over the sheriff on the trail to 
Cody. Guess heTl not fergit ye fer a spell I Mart, 
donT be stingy with that weed. Hand over 
some. My pipe is about as empty as the sheriff’s 
head.” 

'' Why did you do it, Sandy ? ” Ross burst out. 
“ What made you send word to Leslie’s father that 
he was here ? ” 

Sandy composedly filled his pipe and lighted it. 

It was cruelty t’ little children not t’, Doc. The 
very idee of Leslie Jones leavin’ his pa and ” 

“ His name isn’t Jones, and you know it, and I 
know it ! ” interrupted Ross. He could not keep 
the ring of triumph from his tone. He is Leslie 
Quinn.” 

Sandy’s hand traveled slowly to his pipe. Is 
he? How’d you find out? ” he asked quickly. 

205 


ROSS GRANT 


‘‘ Easily enough,” said Ross carelessly, “ when 
you know how.” 

Both Waymart and Sandy regarded the boy in- 
tently. ‘^Been back here then, has he?” they 
asked in one breath. 

Ross arose. ^ It would be cruelty to little chil- 
dren ^ to tell you 1 ” he quoted boldly and opened 
the door. 

Waymart gave an exclamation and sprang to his 
feet. His hands were clenched. But Sandy, kick- 
ing him under the table, guffawed. 

“ Give and take. Mart,” he exclaimed. I’m 
willin’ t’ chew my own words, and if I am willin’ 
there ain’t no kick cornin’ from you ! ” 

The following day Ross wrote another letter to 
Leslie’s father and enclosed the note he had found 
pinned in his pocket. This letter he entrusted to 
Wilson to mail in Cody, for Wilson was going to 
Butte for a few weeks before beginning his winter’s 
work on his coal claims. He stopped at noon to 
bid Weimer and Ross good-bye. 

“ Nothin’ would hire me t’ stay over here all 
winter,” were his last words to Ross. 

Although the latter had seen but little of the 
prospector, his departure made the valley seem 
lonelier than ever, and caused Ross to cling des- 
perately to the idea of the McKenzies remaining. 
As the days passed, and more snow fell, the broth- 
206 


TENDERFOOT 


ers began to get decidedly uneasy. They ac- 
counted for their uneasiness to Ross by telling him 
they were in need of supplies and saw no way of 
getting any over from Miners^ Camp. Sandy was 
the informant, as usual, while Waymart^s eye- 
brows were lifted in momentary surprise. By that 
time every horse in Miners^ Camp had been sent 
“ below.'^ There was but little grass on the moun- 
tains during the brief summer ; and through the 
winter, which occupied nine months of the year, 
every ounce of fodder must be packed over the 
difficult road from the ranches. 

** I donT see,” quoth Sandy unconvincingly, 
but what we^ll have to strike the trail. HainT 
no way, as I can see, to pack grub over except on 
our backs, and that^s too slow.” 

For a moment there was silence in Weimer^s 
cabin. The wind moaned and wailed among the 
hemlocks, and whistled savagely past the cabin. 
In his bunk Weimer snored. Above them came 
the cry of the coyotes, like a child's long-drawn 
scream of pain and fear. The terror of loneliness 
among those overhanging mountains gripped at the 
boy's throat. For a moment he could not speak. 

Then, If you could get provisions over easily, 
would you stay longer ? ” 

Sandy crossed his legs restfully. Sure,” he an- 
swered readily. 


207 


ROSS GRANT 


That week, therefore, Ross used his spare time — 
and some time which he ought not to have spared 
— in making a sled. It was, when finished, a 
crude but efficient affair, the runners being sur- 
mounted by a double-decked box. This vehicle 
he exhibited one day to the McKenzies as the 
prospective conveyor of their supplies over the 
mountains. 

Sandy stood in front of the shack, his hands in 
his pockets, his cap pushed well back on his head 
and the front lock of hair falling over his fore- 
head. 

^‘Doc, you^re the stuff! he cried warmly. 

There’s an idee or two floatin’ around in yer ten- 
derfoot brain, ain’t there ? ” 

Tied to both front and rear of the sled were 
ropes, two in front, one behind. Those in front 
differed in length. 

See ? ” explained Ross. Two can’t walk 
abreast on the trail, but still it’s easier for each one 
to pull on his own rope. That’s the reason I made 
’em of different lengths. Then one of us behind 
can hold the sled from slipping off* the trail with 
the rear rope. In this way we can bring up a big 
load of supplies.” 

Sandy removed his cap, and pushed back his 
hair. 

Doc, where was you raised ? Guess I’ll go back 
208 


TENDERFOOT 


V the same place, and be raised over agin. It 
might pay.'^ His tone expressed an admiration 
that was almost genuine. 

Waymart said nothing. He scarcely glanced at 
the sled, but turned away scowling up toward the 
tunnel where, as he had informed himself, Ross 
and Weimer were doing an amazingly good piece 
of work. 

As they started back toward their own shack, 
Ross heard Waymart say angrily to Sandy, ** Are 
you goin’ to take the use of that sled ? 

And Sandy’s answer, ‘‘ For sure, now ! What’s 
eatin’ you, Mart? Doc’s got a good head on ’im.” 

‘‘ Entirely too good fer us, mebby ! ” growled 
Waymart ; and Ross smiled in satisfaction, think- 
ing they referred to his work in the tunnel. 

Just before supper, the door of Weimer’s shack 
unceremoniously opened, and Waymart’s arm was 
thrust in. Here,” his voice said roughly, ** take 
this here elk steak.” 

Ross relieved the arm of its burden, and the door 
closed sharply. It was a sirloin steak, the juiciest 
and most tender in the animal which the brothers 
had brought into the valley the day before. Sandy 
had often brought them venison before, but never 
Waymart ; and Ross was pleased. 

“While Sandy is entertaining,” Ross had told 
Steele, “ and Waymart seldom says two sentences at 
209 


ROSS GRANT 


one sitting, and next to never meets my eye, yet, if 
it came right down to a choice, I believe I’d rather 
travel along with Waymart than with Sandy.” 

Your choice is all right,” Steele had replied. 

If Waymart would cut loose from Sandy, he’d 
earn an honest living. It’s Sandy that’s the head, 
though. It’s Sandy that plans ; Waymart furnishes 
the feet and arms. Sandy’s good company, but I 
wouldn’t trust him with my pocketbook around 
the corner. Not,” Steele added, that he’d steal it 
in such a way that the law could touch him. No, 
he’d have the pocketbook, but it ’ud leave him 
free to look any jury in the eye and to shake hands 
with me afterward.” 

The new sled made its first journey down into 
Miners’ Camp one Sunday in December two weeks 
after Ross had ridden down with the sheriff. 
Waymart went ahead with one of the leading-ropes 
over his shoulder, and Sandy behind, steadying the 
empty vehicle around the shoulder of Crosby. 
Waymart led because he was the heaviest, and 
there was a deep fall of snow to contend against 
except around the shoulder, where, fortunately, the 
wind had swept the mountain clean. 

As the trail broadened beyond, Waymart paused 
to survey the low-hanging clouds. Ross, in the 
rear, stopped and studied the mountains which 
Nature had in ages past taken in her gigantic hands 
210 


TENDERFOOT 


and flung into the canon between Dundee and 
Crosby, compelling Wood River to crawl and worm 
and wind and cut its way deep and narrow down 
into Miners’ Camp. 

‘‘ I wonder,” exclaimed Ross suddenly to Sandy, 

what is beyond that conglomeration of peaks.” 

Wood River canon still, clean over on top of 
the Divide, and you can follow it on horseback 
right through. Part of the time up there,” wav- 
ing his hand toward the jumble of mountains 
which seemingly ended the canon, ‘'it’s pretty 
rocky trailin’, especially in winter, but it can be 
done.” 

Sandy rested one foot on the edge of the sled. 
Waymart glued his eyes on the Camp far below. 
From various projecting stovepipes volumes of 
smoke were curling straight up in the windless air. 
From the tunnel of the Mountain Company almost 
opposite them came a succession of blasts which 
stirred the echoes between Dundee and Crosby. 
The Mountain Company were no respecters of Sun- 
day. They were also working day and night in 
view of the near shut-down of the works. 

But Ross’s gaze was seeking to penetrate further 
toward the source of Wood River. “ Any one liv- 
ing beyond there ? ” he asked. 

Sandy grinned. “ Elk, mountain-sheep, co- 
yotes, bears, and timber wolves.” 

2II 


ROSS GRANT 


But no people? ” 

Nope. There ain’t a man livin’ ’twixt here 
and the Yellowstone Park — now. Last summer a 
few prospectors sort of strolled up Wood River a 
few dozen miles, but they hiked it out, I tell ye, 
when show come.” 

“ I wish,” Ross said impulsively, that I could 
go over there exploring.” 

Waymart lifted his eyes the fraction of a mo- 
ment, and encountered Sandy’s. A peculiar ex- 
pression passed between them. Then Waymart’s 
gaze fell again on the Camp, and Sandy replied 
carelessly to Ross : 

After you git the work done in your tunnel 
better strike some of these trails, but not in win- 
ter. They ain’t safe, especially for a tenderfoot.” 

But in the summer,” returned Ross absently, 
I don’t expect to be here.” 

Oh — that so ? ” and Sandy gave the sled a 
careless push. 

Waymart drew the rope over his shoulder, and 
once more the trio descended the trail. 

At the upper camp Ross left the brothers to 
purchase their supplies while he visited the post- 
office and Steele. At the former place he found 
a note to himself from Leslie’s father and a bulkier 
letter addressed to Leslie in his care. Mr. Quinn 
had received both of Ross’s letters, he wrote, the 
212 


TENDERFOOT 


last with the enclosure from Leslie. He had taken 
the steps necessary to recall the warrant, which, he 
explained, had seemed to him the surest and 
quickest way of fetching the boy home,” and 
would allow Leslie to return to Ross as his note 
indicated that he desired. On his return Ross 
was to give up the letter put in his care. Mr. 
Quinn closed his communication with thanks to 
Ross for the trouble he had been to, also, for his 
assurance that Leslie was boning down to work I 

Two weeks had elapsed since Leslie disappeared. 
Nothing had been seen of him nor heard of him 
in either the upper or lower camps, and Ross re- 
turned to Meadow Creek troubled in spirit. 

‘‘ I^m afraid,” he told himself as he helped the 
McKenzies haul their supplies up the trail, that 
Vve made even a bigger mess of it all the way 
around than I thought at first.” 

Steele, from his doorway, watched Ross out of 
sight that afternoon, with a pleased smile on his 
bearded lips. He was a tanned and freckled Ross 
now. Sun and wind and work in the open for 
two months had left their marks on the boy. He 
stood straighter, walked more firmly, and had laid 
on pounds of muscle. 

“ He's put himself through good and plenty, 
as well as holding Uncle Jake's nose to the grind- 
stone,” concluded Steele, turning back into the 
213 


ROSS GRANT 


cabin. On the making of the sled he had com- 
mented but briefly to Ross, realizing how much 
the presence of the McKenzies meant to the boy. 
To himself he thought, however : 

That Sandy McKenzie ! How he does manage 
to make other folks do his work I 

During the week which followed, a stranger 
passed through Miners’ Camp. He was seen by 
only one man, “ Society Bill,” who belonged to 
the Gale’s Ridge outfit. 

“ He asked the way to the Meader Creek trail,” 
Society Bill told Steele. ‘‘ Now, I wonder if he’s 
a new one of them McKenzies. I never set my 
two eyes on ’im before.” 

“ Horseback? ” asked Steele. 

Yep. Decent sort of bronc he rode. Told me 
to tell Bill Travers to drive it down below to- 
morrow if it got down this far.” 

That looks as if he knew what he was about, 
and intended to stay,” mused Steele. 

Early the following morning the “ decent sort 
of broncho,” with its bridle reins tied to the 
pommel of the saddle, was discovered in front 
of Steele’s shack, pawing the snow in an in- 
effectual attempt to get a breakfast. Bill Trav- 
ers, returning with the stage, according to request, 
drove the beast ahead of him down to the first 
214 


TENDERFOOT 


ranch, and, taking off saddle and bridle, turned 
it into a large corral with dozens of other horses 
to winter. In the spring one by one the owners 
would straggle along, identify their horses and 
saddles, pay their bills, and depart for the moun- 
tains. 

The owner of the ranch pitched the saddle 
under a shed, and thought no more about the 
transaction. Bill Travers, whirling his whip over 
the backs of his four stage horses, gave the stranger 
and his horse no more thought. Society Bill, 
having disseminated his news among the other 
miners, presently forgot it. But Amos Steele 
neither forgot nor ceased to speculate. 

** Who is he, and what is he doing on the 
Creek ? Steele asked himself. 

The first part of the question Ross answered the 
following Sunday. He could scarcely wait to open 
the door before announcing : 

** Lon Weston is over on the Creek. He is 
cousin to the McKenzies ! ” 


215 


CHAPTER XI 


MEADOW CREEK VALLEY MISSES LESLIE 

Ross could scarcely believe the evidence of his 
own senses when he saw Lon Weston riding along 
the trail below the dump. The boy had pushed 
the car with its load of ore out to the bumper and 
dumped it before he saw the horseman in the 
sheepskin coat, the hairy chaps, and a fur cap 
drawn over forehead and ears. The horse shied 
at the chunks of ore rolling almost to its feet, and 
Weston looked up. 

“ Hello, there ! shouted Ross. What on earth 
are you doing here ? ” 

Weston drew in his horse. Hello, Doc ! ” he 
returned with gruff pleasantness without answer- 
ing the question. 

‘‘ Doc slipped and slid down the snowy path 
to the trail, and held out a cordial hand. 

How^s your leg? 

All right.'' Weston gripped the extended hand 
heartily. “ Almost as good 's new." 

His brown eyes above his heavy stubby beard 
held a pleasanter expression than Ross had seen 
in them while nursing their owner. They were 
216 


TENDERFOOT 


deep eyes, capable of mirroring accurately the 
varied moods of the man looking out of them. 

I didn^t recognize you in Cody three weeks 
ago,^* Ross was beginning when Weston inter- 
rupted him. 

Leaning down from his saddle he met the boy's 
eyes steadily. “Remember," he said slowly and 
meaningly, “ that you didn't see me — nor hear 
from me — in Cody." 

“ All right," agreed Ross, embarrassed by the 
fixity of the other's stare. “ I'll forget it hereafter, 
but I want to thank " 

“ Cut it out," commanded Weston briefiy, 
straightening again in the saddle. 

“ At least," invited Ross, “ you'll come to dinner 
with me. Uncle Jake is frying ham and onions. 
Smell 'em ? I got some onions and half a dozen 
apples over at Camp Sunday." His voice could 
not have been more eager had he been relating the 
finding of free gold. “ Come on in, and have 
some." 

Weston's eyes slipped away from Ross's in a way 
which reminded the latter of Waymart's, and 
rested on the smoke from the cabin a quarter of a 
mile away. 

“ Guess not, to-day. Thank you just the same. 
The boys are probably rustlin' grub this minute 
and they'll be expectin' me. See you again." 

217 


ROSS GRANT 


Ross stood motionless, looking after him. 
Weston rode sitting straight, unlike the usual 
careless forward droop of the cow puncher. He 
was a well-built man, although his shoulders were 
rather ^narrow. But the only characteristic that 
Ross noticed was the grip of the left knee against 
the horse. For the strength of that grip he was 
responsible, but it was a responsibility which Lon 
did not seem to recognize. 

Suddenly the boy realized the newcomer’s 
words. So Sandy and Way mart were expecting 
him, but had said nothing about it to Ross. And 
when Ross had told them about Lon Weston at the 
stage camp they had made no sign that they knew 
him. That was strange. 

He turned slowly toward the cabin, where 
Weimer was frying ham and onions and boiling 
coffee. Opening the cabin door he was met by a 
white gust of steam mingled with savory smoke. 
He propped the door open, and brought in an 
armful of wood. 

Weimer, in his shirt-sleeves, was bending his 
head over a little stove, which offered barely room 
for a small kettle and a skillet with a coffee-pot 
sandwiched in between. A sheet-iron oven stood 
on the floor, the top answering for a sideboard. 
When Weimer made biscuits and sour dough 
bread, the oven was placed on top of the stove. 

218 


TENDERFOOT 


Ross threw his wood down on the hard dirt 
floor, and put a stick into the stove by way of the 
wide front door. The pine instantly blazed up, 
showing a wide crack which zigzagged across the 
side of the old stove. 

“ Uncle Jake,’^ — Ross sat back on one heel, and 
looked up at his partner whose blinking eyes were 
in the gloom of the cabin unprotected now by 
goggles, — “Uncle Jake, a stranger has just come 
into Meadow Creek City on the Limited.” 

Weimer chuckled. Before the advent of his 
youthful “ pard ” the old man — Ross always 
thought of him as old despite his black hair and 
great strength — had not laughed in months. 

“ He stopped at the second station,” pursued 
Ross. 

Weimer^s face instantly darkened. “At the 
McKenzies^ ? One of dem consarned gang, he 
ist?” 

“ That^s what I want to know. It's Lon Weston, 
the fellow I told you I took care of at the stage 
camp.” 

Weimer dumped ham and onions into an agate- 
ware basin, and set it on the table. “ I don't 
know him, I don't. But he comes to der Mc- 
Kenzies, hein ? Und after all dose days you spen' 
mit him ! ” Uncle Jack frowned heavily, and, 
sitting down, helped himself to boiled “spuds.” 

219 


ROSS GRANT 


** I tink I knew all dem consarned gang, but dere 
ist no Veston mit ^em” 

Ross dragged to the little bare board table a box 
marked in big letters, Ruford^s Canned To- 
matoes, The Yellow Brand, and, turning the box 
on end, straddled it opposite Weimer. 

Weimer, eating and drinking noisily, found 
time to ask vindictively, “ Ist he for more medi- 
cine come mit you ? 

Ross shook his head, and bent over his plate. 

The plate was tin. The cup out of which he 
drank his coffee was also tin. His knife and fork 
were steel, and his spoon was pewter. The place 
of the lacking milk pitcher was usurped by a tin 
can of condensed milk with the top bent back and 
the milk dried all over the sides. But Ross ate 
— how he ate I Potatoes followed ham, and coffee 
followed potatoes, and onions followed both, and 
then he began all over again. Never had eating 
been ^’^such serious work with him. But never, 
also, had his muscles been so firm and hard. As 
for a pickaxe, it was coming to feel no heavier than 
the baseball bat which he had always rather 
scorned. 

I wonder,^^ he began after a pause, “ what 
Lon’s up to here, anyway.” 

The question started Weimer on his favorite 
topic, the claim jumpers and the injustice of the 
220 


TENDERFOOT 


mining laws. He could not talk fast enough in 
English, and so dropped into his native German. 

Ross, accustomed to his tirades, cleared away 
the dishes, pushed the table back against the dirt 
chinked logs, and lay down on the blankets of his 
bunk for a few moments, his eyes glued on the 
little nickel clock. 

He broke into the other^s scolding monologue. 
“ In ten minutes we must go back to work.” 

Weimer scowled darkly. His lids, red and 
swollen, almost obscured his pale-blue eyes. 
** Mine eyes ist too pad to-day,” he declared. ** I 
vill not to go out in de sun again.” 

A few weeks before, this oft-repeated declaration 
had alarmed Ross. Now he made no reply. But, 
when the hands of the nickel clock indicated one, 
he arose and put on his oiled jumper and oil- 
skin cap. 

“ Come, Uncle Jake,” he said in a strong, decided 
tone. Here are your goggles. Get busy, or the 
McKenzie outfit will have our claims in spite of 
us. Now, when there are three to watch instead 
of two, we must show the mettle weVe made af.” 

Moved by the magic statement, ever new and 
ever powerful, that the claims might be jumped. 
Uncle Jake, forgetting that in substance he had 
made the same objection to work twi«e a day for 
weeks and that Ross had overcome his objections 
221 


ROSS GRANT 


in substantially the same way, got busy/’ And 
presently Ross led him out, his eyes not only 
securely goggled, but covered as well with a black 
cloth which he pressed fearfully against the goggles. 

The snow was Weimer’s evil genius. He lived 
in dread of the sight of it. Without assistance he 
would not move a dozen paces away from the 
cabin after the sun had risen on Meadow Creek 
Valley. But the fear of the light had made as great 
an impression on his mind as the light itself had 
made on his eyes, and he had fallen into the habit, 
before Ross came, of staying in his cabin during 
cloudy days, lest, if he ventured out, the sun 
might break through the clouds. 

The old partner and the young went up the 
steep trail to the tunnel, Ross leading Weimer up 
over the side of the dump and into the mouth of 
the tunnel. In the shelter of its gloom the latter 
removed his goggles ; and, stumbling along over 
the chunks of ore lying beside the narrow track, 
he reached the end of the short tunnel which had 
been blasted from the solid rock. Lighting a fresh 
candle, he set it in its socket at the end of a sharply 
pointed iron, a miner’s candlestick, and, jabbing 
the point into a crevice, leisurely surveyed the 
wall before him. Behind him the little empty car 
filled the tunnel with sound as Ross pushed it 
rattling and jolting over the rusty rails. 

222 


TENDERFOOT 


** Ready to drill for another shot, ain^t we ? ” 
Ross asked. He pushed the car back out of the 
way. Got to hustle to get it done this afternoon, 
too.^’ 

Under the stimulus of Rosses presence and hustle 
the older man fell to work valiantly, but it was 
slow work. Down in Miners^ Camp machinery 
performed the task which Weimer was doing labo- 
riously with the aid of a hand drill. Before him, 
at the end of the tunnel, was a seamed and uneven 
wall of rock a little higher than his head and a 
little broader than his reach had he extended his 
arms on either side. In this wall he patiently 
drilled three sets of holes, into which the “ sticks 
were placed for the next shot,^^ as the explosion 
of dynamite was called. In mining terms the old 
man was “ putting a shot.^^ Near the top of the 
wall he made three holes. Half-way down were 
two more, long and inclined toward each other at 
the top. These were the cut-in holes.^^ Lastly, 
at the foot of the wall were three large holes called 
‘‘lifters.^^ The contents of the top holes and the 
cut-ins were set off first, splintering and cracking 
the rock. Then the lifters were exploded, actually 
lifting the loosened mass above it and hurling it 
into the tunnel. 

When quiet reigned again, and Ross had loaded 
his hand car with the debris, he pushed it out on 
223 


ROSS GRANT 


the dump again through the moist, freezing atmos- 
phere of the tunnel. There was water everywhere. 
Near the mouth of the tunnel it was frozen on the 
sides and the top, and carpeted the floor with slush. 
Further in it was unfrozen, oozing out of the sides, 
dripping from the roof, running along the track. 
It covered the oiled garments of the men at work. 
It put out their candles. It made muck of the 
quartz dust on the floor. It often destroyed the 
lighted fuses. 

There was something maddening to Ross in its 
incessant drip and drizzle, and he always emerged 
on the dump with a feeling of relief, especially 
when the sun shone as it did that day in dazzling 
brightness. 

He dumped the car, and was about to push it 
back when his eyes fell on Weston^s horse journey- 
ing on the back trail riderless. 

That means,” thought Ross, that he^s going 
to stay. Why ? ” 

A feeling of relief was mixed with uneasiness. 
The relief was caused by this further link in the 
chain of evidence that when the trail to Miners^ 
Camp was closed it would not close on Weimer 
and him alone. The uneasiness had to do with 
the mission of the McKenzie outfit in Meadow 
Creek Valley. Why were they reenforced by 
Weston? 


224 


TENDERFOOT 


Oh I exclaimed Ross aloud in sudden disgust 
with himself. He’s come to hunt, of course I 
His gun was strapped on behind. I never thought 
of that. If he belongs to the McKenzie outfit, 
he’d rather hunt than eat.” 

It seemed to him that the outfit ” bore him 
not the slightest grudge or ill will. Sandy, indeed, 
seemed openly to like him. Way mart tolerated 
him with a surly good humor, while Weston — here 
Ross knit his brow — Weston baffled him com- 
pletely ; still, considering the incident of the note 
in Cody, the boy looked on him as a friend albeit 
one who evidently did not care to pose in that ca- 
pacity before the McKenzies. 

From his position Ross could look down and 
across on the claims of the McKenzies and almost 
into the discovery hole ” in which they were 
supposed to be working. Way mart was leisurely 
drilling a hole in the rock to receive a stick of 
dynamite when Sandy came out of the cabin and 
walked rapidly toward him. 

The two talked together a moment, and then 
Weston joined them. In a moment the three fell 
apart, and appeared to be talking excitedly. Pres- 
ently Waymart dropped the discussion, and turn- 
ing his back walked away a few steps with his 
hands in his pockets and stood in a listening at- 
titude. Ross watched with absorbing interest. 

225 


ROSS GRANT 


Even at that distance he could see that the discus- 
sion between the other two was not amiable. The 
scene lasted but a few moments, and then all three 
descended to the cabin together. 

That evening after supper, Ross washed the 
day^s dishes, brought in wood, and put the room 
to rights, while Weimer alternately smoked and 
snored in his bunk. The room was dimly lighted 
by candles in candlesticks thrust into logs. Ross, 
so tired and sleepy he could scarcely keep his eyes 
open, hung up the dish-pan on its nail beside the 
stove, and looked longingly toward the emergency 
chest pushed beneath his bunk. Not one word 
had he mastered of the contents of the books he 
had stowed away there with such high hopes. 

I donT believe the McKenzies are coming 
over,'^ he told Weimer, as he filled the stove and 
wound up the clock. It’s too late for them.” 

Weimer made no reply. His pipe had fallen on 
his chest, and his hair-encircled mouth was wide 
open in a vacuous sleep. At that moment the ris- 
ing wind beat the snow against the window, and 
Ross uttered an exclamation. He had forgotten to 
shut the tool-house door, and, fearing that with 
the wind in the south the little log house would be 
filled with snow before morning, he went back up 
the trail to the tunnel. Climbing noiselessly over 
the soft snow, he arrived at the ore dump, and was 
22 $ 


TENDERFOOT 


making for the tool house across the mouth of the 
tunnel when a light flickered in his path. 

Startled, he looked into the tunnel, and saw 
three flgures at the end silhouetted against the dim 
candle-light. 

Lon, Sandy and Waymart,” he muttered. 

There was no danger of his being discovered, so 
dark was the night. Therefore, he sat down on his 
heels beside the tool house, and watched, puzzled 
at first to understand the movements of the men. 

“ Oh,^’ he muttered suddenly, they’re measur- 
ing to see how fast the work is going.” 

With a ^pe line the men were estimating the 
cubic feet of rock excavated by Ross and Weimer. 

Ross hugged his knees, and exulted. His 
“ friends the enemy ” might measure all they 
chose, he thought ; and every length of the tape 
line would reveal to them the futility of waiting 
to jump the Weimer-Grant claims. 

Presently the three started out of the tunnel. 
Ross, seeking a hiding-place, found it behind a 
clump of low spruce trees at the right of the 
tunnel’s mouth. The intruders blew out their 
candles as they came out on the dump. 

At this rate,” Ross heard Waymart say, 
‘‘ they’re solid on these here claims.” 

But, although he strained his ears, he could 
hear nothing more. After a brief wait the last 
227 


ROSS GRANT i 

\ 

sound of twigs breaking under their shoes died ! 
away ; and Ross, leaving his hiding-place, shut - 
the tool-house door and went back to the cabin. j 
He found Weimer awake and whistling in his \ 
bunk. Ross paused at the door, regarding him 
curiously. It was the first time he had ever heard 
the old man make this cheerful sound, although 
Steele had said he used to be called Whistling ' 
Weimer as well as Dutch Weimer. 

‘‘ Hello, Uncle Jake ! ” cried Ross. Feeling 
pretty gay, aren’t you ? ” 

Weimer stopped in the middle of his tune, and 
blinked at Ross. Nein,” he denied, I ain’t 

feelin’ gay. If your eyes vas ” 

Ross interrupted. '' Now, see here. Uncle Jake ; | 

you know your eyes are better since I’ve taken to ' 
doctoring them.” 

The last few weeks had certainly improved the 
old man. His eyes were better, owing to a cooling 
lotion which Ross had dropped under the lids 
twice a day. Weimer’s mind was clearer because 
his growing confidence in his young partner had 
quieted his fears. Ross’s cheerfulness was also 
contagious. Nor did the cleanliness on which the 
boy insisted lower Weimer’s vitality. Soap became 
a known quantity to him. 

All these favorable circumstances reacted on 
Weimer’s work. He was becoming more and more 
228 


TENDERFOOT 


efficient, and Ross's spirits had risen as the days 
passed ; and he saw the growing intelligence 
manifested by the other in regard to operations 
in the tunnel. This change for the better in 
Uncle Jake had not passed unnoticed by the 
McKenzies. 

Ross said nothing to the old man about the 
scene he had just witnessed in the tunnel. It 
would do no good, and would only inflame the 
other's wrath. Therefore, he snufied the candles, 
repeating mechanically : 

Don't believe the McKenzies are coming over 
to-night." 

But at that moment footsteps sounded outside 
the door. The snow creaked under the pressure 
of shoes, and Sandy and Waymart entered. 

Sandy was as gay and talkative as ever, but not 
Waymart. He sat down on a box, leaned back 
against the logs, turned up his coat collar to pro- 
tect himself from the icy wind, which sought out 
the dirt-chinked crevices, and, pulling a mouth- 
organ from his pocket, began to play. Nor did 
he stop until Sandy rose to go. A sombre flgure 
he made back among the shadows, his eyes resting 
vacantly on the floor at his feet. One leg was 
crossed over the other, the toe moving in time to 
the discordant music. Waymart's thoughts did 
not seem to be cheerful companions. 

229 


ROSS GRANT 


But Sandy had drawn a box close up beside the 
roaring fire, and sat with his elbows on his knees 
and a pipe in his mouth. He paid no attention 
to Weimer nor to his musical brother, but told 
Ross yarns of the gold-fields of Montana and 
Nevada, tales concerning other men, Ross no- 
ticed ; Sandy never talked about himself. 

The evening passed and the men rose to depart 
without having mentioned the newcomer; and 
Ross, with the thought of their previous reti- 
cence concerning him in mind, waited for them 
to speak first. 

It was Sandy who spoke, but not until his hand 
was on the door and Waymart stood outside the 
cabin. Then he said carelessly, as though Ross 
had never seen Weston before, and as though the 
coming of a relative was an every-day event in 
Meadow Creek Valley : 

‘‘ Cousin hiked it over the mountain to-day. 
We^re goin’ t’ strike th’ trail over t’ the Divide 
to-morrow, huntin\ He^s great on game.^’ 

So,'' thought Ross, I^m right. It^s hunting 
that has brought him here.*' 

The next morning at daylight, Ross, eating 
breakfast, chanced to glance out of the dirty 
west window. Up near the summit of Soap- 
weed Ledge, which met Crosby at right angles, 
he saw three figures advancing single file. Each 
230 


TENDERFOOT 


carried a gun, and had a small pack and snow- 
shoes strapped on his back. 

Uncle Jake,” asked Ross suddenly, “ have you 
ever been over to the Divide? ” 

Weimer shook his head. No, I stay home and 
attend to pizness.” 

** Haven't you ever crossed that mountain ? ” 
Ross indicated Soapweed Ledge. 

Yes.” 

“ What's beyond ? ” 

More mountains,” answered Weimer vaguely, 
“ und peyond dem more und more.” 

It was a week before the hunters returned, a 
long lonely week for Ross. Each morning he 
told himself hopefully that before night Leslie 
might return, but, to his increasing dismay, no 
Leslie came. 

Can it be that an accident has happened to 
him, somewhere, alone, or has he changed his 
mind about coming and gone back home ? ” 

Ross asked himself this question as he stood at 
the mouth of the tunnel one morning staring in 
the direction of Soapweed Ledge. A heavy snow- 
storm had set in that morning, and in the after- 
noon the falling snow shrouded the Ledge in a 
white veil out of which the three men now 
emerged, moving slowly across the little valley. 
Their snow-shoes were on their feet, and in place 

231 


ROSS GRANT 


of the light packs with which they had started 
their shoulders were bent under loads of venison. 

The McKenzies had returned. 

That evening Waymart appeared at Weimer’s 
door with a goodly portion of meat, at which Ross 
looked dubiously. 

You've given us so much already," he hesi- 
tated. 

Waymart interrupted. ‘‘Jerk it," he directed 
briefly. “ Jerked meat makes a good stew when 
ye can't git no fresh meat." He turned sharply 
to Weimer in his bunk. “ See here. Uncle Jake, 
have ye forgot how t' jerk venison ? " 

Weimer crawled out of his bunk, scowling. 
“ Veil, I haf nicht dat. I guess I jerk him so 
gud as anypody." 

“Get about it then!" retorted Waymart with 
rough kindness. “ Here's a meat knife to shred 
it up with." 

He laid a large, sharp knife on the table, and 
cut Ross's thanks short by an abrupt departure. 

Weimer, grumbling at the interruption to his 
rest, cut the meat in long, thin strips, which, he 
told Ross, were to be nailed to the outside of the 
shack after the storm had passed. But in the 
morning, Ross, objecting to a process which 
brought the meat into contact with the dirty 
logs, stretched a cord between two trees, and 
232 


TENDERFOOT 


over it, in the sunshine, folded the strips clothes- 
pin fashion, leaving them for the air to cure and 
dry. 

For two or three days the McKenzies did not 
visit their neighbors. Ross saw them outside 
their shack occasionally, and something in the 
air and attitudes spoke, even at that distance, of 
disagreement. 

One evening at six o'clock Weimer stumbled 
out of the tunnel alone and down the path, the 
darkness robbing the snow of its terrors. A few 
moments later, Ross, having laid the dry sticks in 
the drilled holes in the end wall of the tunnel, 
lighted the fuses, and, candle in hand, made for 
the mouth. 

He came out on Lon Weston sitting on a stump 
which projected above the dump. 

Hello, Doc," greeted Lon Weston. 

Hello, Weston." Ross was so astonished to see 
him there that he nearly forgot to count the ex- 
plosions that just then thundered in the tunnel be- 
hind him. 

One, two, three, four, five." That accounted 
for the five sticks. 

He leaned against the tool house, and looked at 
Lon through the dusk. Lon's cap was pulled 
down over his eyes. His sheepskin collar was 
turned up, meeting the cap. All that was visible 

233 


ROSS GRANT 


of his face was a bit of beard protruding around 
the stem of the pipe. But the voice sounded a 
more amiable note than it ever had in the stage 
camp, although his manner revealed an uneasy 
embarrassment. 

Well, Doc, how d'ye like minin' ? " 

I don't like it at all," replied Ross honestly. 

** Seems t' like you all right," returned Lon. 

You're in better flesh and color than you was 
down on Dry Creek." 

So are you," retorted Ross, laughing. 

Lon made no reply. He moved restlessly. 

“ Done any studyin' in that pile o' books ye had 
along ? " he asked abruptly after a time. 

“ No." Ross's tone was crisp. Haven't 
studied a word." The subject was a tender one 
with him. 

There ensued a pause. Ross opened the door of 
the tool house, and threw in his pick and shovel. 
He hitched the legs of his high rubber boots 
nearer his body ; and then, as Lon made no move 
toward going, he swung his numbed hands briskly. 

I thought," Lon began again in a constrained 
and hesitating way, that you was mighty anxious 
about those books. I thought your goin' to some 
college or other depended on your gettin' outside 
of those books." 

Ross struck his hands rapidly together. ‘‘ I 

234 


TENDERFOOT 


can’t study,” he answered briefly. I get too 
tired working.” 

Weston arose and faced toward the cabin of the 
McKenzies. 

“ Another storm cornin’,” he announced. “ Get 
here day after to-morrow.” 

“ That’s Christmas,” muttered Ross. His heart 
contracted sharply, and a homesick pang assailed 
him. In his ignorance, before leaving home, he 
had set Christmas as the date of his return. 


235 


CHAPTER XII 


A CALAMITY BEFALLS ROSS 

Ross was writing to Dr. and Mrs. Grant. He 
bent over the rough table under the light of two 
candles stuck into the logs above his head. Wei- 
mer slept in his bunk the sound and noisy sleep 
of a tired laborer. 

“ At the rate we^re going at present/^ Ross wrote, 
we’ll finish work by the middle of May. . . . 

We have at least one thing to be thankful for in our 
tunnel. We’re not obliged to timber it. Of course, 
blasting through solid rock isn’t easy nor fast 
work, but I guess in the long run we get along 
faster than we would through dirt. In this case, 
you see we should be obliged to snake logs down 
from the mountainside and build side walls and 
roof in the tunnel for our own safety. How’s 
^ snaking ’ for you, Aunt Anne ? First time I 
heard it I hadn’t an idea what it meant, but it 
covers the process of cutting down trees and get- 
ting them to their destination. Tell you what I 
we speak some language up here. The King’s 
English isn’t always in it, but then every one un- 
236 


TENDERFOOT 


derstands, and I have fallen into using it as easily 
as a fish takes to water. And I am getting hard- 
ened to the work and the weather. I wouldn’t 
mind the whole thing so much now if only the 
way to Miners’ Camp would remain open. But 
any day it may become practically impassable, and 
then I cannot hear from you nor you from me for 
months. That — as I look ahead — is the tough 
part of it, being cooped up here with only five of 
us ; and how the McKenzies can remain without 
laying in more provisions I don’t see. They have 
meat enough, but that’s all. With this letter I’m 
taking another over to Camp for Leslie’s father. I 
ought to have sent him word before that Leslie 
hasn’t been seen nor heard of since he disappeared, 
but every day I’ve looked for him back — the 
whole affair worries me a lot — I should think as 
soon as he gets my letter, old man Quinn would 
come and hunt Leslie up himself.” 

At this point there was the sound of laughter 
outside, and Ross laid aside his pencil and pad. 

Sandy,” he muttered, listening. 

To his surprise it was not Sandy whom the 
opening door revealed, but Lon and Waymart, 
both in unprecedented high spirits. 

“ We left Sandy snorin’,” Waymart volunteered. 

He and Uncle Jake ought to bunk in together. 
Lon, show Ross how Sandy talks in his sleep.” 

237 


ROSS GRANT 


Weston sat down, leaned his head back against 
the logs, gave one or two passes through his hair, 
which left it arranged like Sandy’s with a lock 
falling over his forehead ; and in an instant, al- 
though Weston was dark and Sandy fair, an ex- 
cellent imitation of the latter mumbled and talked 
and snored against the logs. Weston accurately 
and easily imitated the voice and manner of Sandy 
with his laugh and every facial characteristic. 
Even Weimer rolled over in his bunk and laughed. 
Next, Weston, carried out of himself by an apprecia- 
tive audience, imitated Waymart, the sheep-herder 
at Dry Creek, and finally Ross himself, and did it 
all with amazing success. 

Ross, convulsed with laughter, rocked back and 
forth on his box. It was the first real fun he had 
encountered since leaving Pennsylvania. It did 
not seem possible that this Weston was the same 
half-sullen, wholly silent man whom he had nursed 
at the stage camp. 

Ross sat opposite the window in front of which 
Weston was performing ; and finally, just as 
Waymart had called for an imitation of Weimer, 
the boy, glancing up, encountered Sandy’s face 
outside the dirty pane. It remained there but an 
instant while Sandy took the measure of the per- 
former, but that instant was enough to show Ross 
the full expression of which he had caught glimpses 
238 


TENDERFOOT 


before, and which revealed the side of his charac- 
ter that Sandy usually concealed. His blue eyes 
glinted angrily. His thin lips, tightly closed, 
wore a cruel expression, while every feature clearly 
showed a malignant disapproval of Weston’s 
methods of entertainment. 

The laugh died in Ross’s throat ; but the next 
instant the door swung open and Sandy entered, 
gay and careless — except as to eyes. They still 
glinted. 

‘‘ Thought ye’d shook me, didn’t ye ? ” he asked 
with a grin. “ Wall, this racket would bring a 
feller up from his grave, to say nothin’ of a little 
snooze.” 

He pushed a box over on its side, and sat astride 
it; and at once the atmosphere in the cabin 
changed, and became frigid, despite the newcomer’s 
gaiety. Weston slunk back to his seat, and all 
Ross’s urging proved ineffectual to draw him out 
of his shell again. Waymart’s face also lost its 
good humor. 

Presently the three left together. 

Weimer, wide awake, moved around the shack. 

Dat Veston ! ” he chuckled. How many 
kinds of beoples ist he ? I could shut mine eyes 
and tink he vas dem all.” 

The next day was Sunday, and early in the 
morning in the teeth of a mild wind and threatened 

239 


ROSS GRANT 


storm Ross was off for Miners' Camp. As far as 
the shoulder around Crosby he went on snow- 
shoes. Arrived at the shoulder, and, making use 
of the long, sharp spike which he carried, he 
picked his way cautiously forward, pushing 
through the deep snow in the trail with his feet 
and knees, the spike set on the outer edge to pre- 
vent his slipping. Again and again a ledge of 
overhanging snow would break away and fall on 
him ; and, light even as the snow yet was, its 
weight dropping on his shoulders caused him to 
stagger. The snow-shoes also became a burden, 
for they were a useless encumbrance until he 
reached the foot of the mountain and struck out 
for Steele's shack over two miles of snow already 
five feet deep. 

When he reached Gale's Ridge, he was almost 
exhausted, not only from pushing through the 
snow on the trail, but from the unaccustomed 
effort of walking on snow-shoes. Already he was 
dreading the most difficult task of all — the return 
journey. 

Steele met him with a manifest uneasiness. 

“Grant, your trips down to Camp this season 
are numbered," he cautioned as they sat down to 
an early dinner. “ An old trailer could creep 
around the shoulder of Crosby for a little while 
yet, but neither you nor I could do it in safety. 

240 


TENDERFOOT 


The snow^s gettin’ so almighty deep now, and 
blowin^ up in ledges on the shoulder — you prob- 
ably got a ducking coming over?^^ His tone 
arose inquiringly. 

Ross nodded. Several times a lot of snow 
dropped on me ; once I almost lost my balance.^^ 

Steele moved uneasily. That^s the trouble 
with that trail even before there’s danger of a 
regular avalanche. You’re likely to get swept 
over when you least expect it, and going back is 
worse than coming.” 

Directly after dinner Ross commenced to bind 
on his snow-shoes for an early departure, having 
filled his pockets with candy for Weimer. His 
heart was heavy, and he had a queer, choky sen- 
sation as he looked around the little shack, which 
he might not see again in months. 

Steele was adjusting the straps on his own snow- 
shoes. 

Going up the canon with me, are you ? ” asked 
Ross. 

Steele nodded, and got into his top-coat. A 
little way,” he answered briefly. 

Although it was only one o’clock in the after- 
noon, twilight had fallen. The clouds rolled up 
the canon so low that they hung almost within 
reach of the men’s hands, although not much snow 
was yet falling. An indescribable gloom filled the 
241 


ROSS GRANT 


canon, the gloom of utter isolation and loneliness. 
Not a breath of wind was stirring ; not a move- 
ment of a tree was audible. Everywhere were the 
deep snow, the silent trees, the great white hulks 
of the mountains ; and over all the clouds glow- 
ered sullenly. 

Nature had erected sudden and impenetrable 
barriers in all directions, and Ross felt as though 
he were striving against them all. 

In silence the two traveled the distance which 
lay between Gale’s Ridge and the upper end of 
Miners’ Camp, which was at present a deserted 
end. When they passed out of sight of the eating 
house on Gale’s Ridge, they left behind them every 
sign of life. The Mountain Company had shut 
down two weeks before. A few men had gone to 
Steele, but the majority had betaken themselves 
“ below.” Their shacks stood as the owners had 
left them, with their stoves, their crude furniture, 
and in some cases provisions, intact. 

The stage was due now only once a week, and 
the post-office had been removed to Steele’s cabin. 
The former postmaster had gone to work on a 
ranch on the Grey Bull, leaving the post-office 
doors wide open, the snow filling the cabin and 
banking up against the letter boxes. 

By April,” said Steele, you can’t see even the 
roof of a single one of these places down here next 
242 


TENDERFOOT 

the river. They 11 all be plumb covered with 
snow.” 

Steele did not stop, as Ross supposed he would, 
at the foot of Crosby, but started up the trail. 

“ Where are you going? ” demanded the boy. 

The superintendent went on. His reply came 
back muffled by the heavy air. “ Around the 
shoulder of this little hill.” 

Nor could any protest from Ross restrain him. 

As they began the ascent, Ross found the mois- 
ture hanging in drops to his clothing, while his face 
felt as though it were being bathed in ice-water. 
At the same time the clouds settled all about them. 

This is literally walking with our heads in the 
clouds,” muttered Steele grimly. And this is 
the weather that'll pack the snow in this trail with 
a crust as hard as earth — ugh ! ” 

They ascended the trail laboriously, Steele in 
the lead, Ross lagging behind, leg-weary, and 
heavy-hearted at the thought of the months to 
come. Around the shoulder of the mountain they 
cautiously felt their way, the thick clouds about 
them seeming to press back the banks of snow 
above. 

Once on the safe trail beyond the shoulder 
Steele turned, and held out his hand without a 
word. Also wordless, Ross* gripped it. Then the 
older man took the back trail, and disappeared. 
243 


ROSS GRANT 


The boy stood where the other left him, staring 
into the clouds which hid the shoulder. As he 
stood, a slight breeze touched his cheek and died 
away. He buckled his snow-shoes on again, and 
faced Meadow Creek Valley. As he did so, the 
breeze came again. Presently it turned into a 
wind, and the clouds retreated hastily up the 
mountainside. Great flakes of snow filled the air. 
Faster and faster they came swirling down until 
the air was thick with a storm which cut sharply 
against Ross’s face. He hurried on, and in an 
hour was beyond the reach of the storm in Wei- 
mer’s shack, drying his wet coat and cap. 

He found his old partner half wild with anxiety. 

^^If you did not come pack to-night,” he cried, 

I thought you would never ! A plizzard ist 
now.” 

So rejoiced was Uncle Jake at Ross’s return that 
he sat near the fire and waxed garrulous while the 
wind lashed the trees and drove the snow outside; 
and Ross, the other side of the stove, shivered and 
listened listlessly. 

^‘What ails you, hein?” Weimer finally de- 
manded. 

And Ross, with a lump in his throat of which 
he was not ashamed, told him. 

Ach I ” exclaimed Weimer disgustedly. He 
snapped his thumb and finger together. I vas 
244 


TENDERFOOT 


here dree vinters alone mit no one near. Py day 
I vorked. Py night dem volves howl und ca- 
yotes ; but/' consolingly, “ dey can't git in, und 
dey vant nicht to git in." 

Then for the first time he went on to relate to 
Ross in his quaint and broken English many 
stories of those lonely winters in this solitary val- 
ley, which had then held him as its only inhab- 
itant. 

‘‘ No wonder," thought Ross, listening to the 
fury of the storm, “ that the old man's mind was 
ready to give away under the additional trial of 
an attack of snow-blindness." 

The blizzard continued in unabated fury all the 
next day. Neither Weimer nor Ross visited the 
tunnel. They remained housed, watching the 
snow gradually pile itself around the little shack 
until the two small windows weie obscured, and 
they were obliged to resort to candle-light. 

But during the night the wind changed, and the 
following morning the sun rose in a brilliantly blue 
sky. Directly after an early breakfast Ross started 
to shovel a way out of the cabin. He dug the 
snow away from the door and windows, and then 
turned his attention to the trail leading to the tun- 
nel. Here he found that the wind had favored him, 
sweeping the path clean and filling up the hollows. 
In the valley the snow lay seven feet deep. 

245 


ROSS GRANT 


Ross worked his way to the ore-dump, at the 
base of which he paused to look down on the Mc- 
Kenzies. Their cabin was also released from the 
snow as to door and window. The snow was also 
tramped and shoveled around the discovery hole, 
but no one was in sight, and Ross had turned again 
to his task when a yell caused him again to face 
the McKenzie cabin. 

Sandy was gesticulating frantically while he ad- 
vanced rapidly on snow-shoes, dodging the trees 
as he came diagonally across the mountainside. 
He came on, talking at the top of his voice, but all 
Ross could catch was ^‘sticks” and “ thief ” and 
trail.^^ Sandy was plainly excited. His necker- 
chief was knotted under one ear ; his coat was but- 
toned up awry ; his cap was on with one ear-flap 
dangling, and the other held fast by the rim of the 
cap. His ears and nose were scarlet, the ther- 
mometer registering, that morning, thirty below 
zero. 

“ Our dynamite is gone,’^ Sandy yelled when he 
was near enough to make Ross understand. Gone 
— stolen.^^ 

Ross stared at him stupidly. “ Who is there to 
take it ? 

Some one,” panted Sandy with an oath, must 
have come up the trail Sunday and taken the stuff, 
thinkin^ that it hid storm right ofl* and shut up the 
246 


TENDERFOOT 


trail so none of us ^ud be such fools as t* go over 
Camp after more. That^s the way Vve figured it 
out, and I lay ye I^m right.^' 

When did you find out the sticks were gone? 
asked Ross with an interest which did not as yet 
reach beyond Sandy. 

“ A few minutes ago,^^ gasped Sandy. I come 
as fast as I could to see if your 

Ross cut him short with a loud exclamation, and 
without waiting to hear the end of the sentence 
turned and plunged up over the dump, ploughing 
and fighting his way through the snow as though 
it were a thing of life. 

Sandy picked up the wooden shovel which the 
boy had cast away, and followed out of breath, but 
still talking. 

“ You know we kept the sticks in a box under 
a hemlock right above the hole, and 

Ross, unheeding, floundered across the dump, 
and began to dig wildly at the tool-house door, only 
the upper part of which was visible. With set 
teeth he dug, forgetting Sandy, forgetting the 
shovel, his common sense swallowed up in a panic 
of fear. 

Weimer had always kept the dynamite sticks in 
a box, a large double boarded and heavily lidded 
affair which was set in the corner of the tool chest 
furthest from the door. 

247 


ROSS GRANT 


At first Ross had raised the lid of this box with 
chills creeping down his spine. His hair had 
stirred under his cap when he first saw Weimer 
stuff the sticks carelessly into his pocket and en- 
ter the tunnel. But familiarity with the use of the 
sticks had robbed them of their terror, although 
Ross was always cautious in the handling. 

Hold on, Doc.^^ Sandy^s voice at his elbow 
finally brought the frantic boy to his senses. “Ye 
can’t do nothin’ with yer hands. Stand aside 
there, and I’ll shovel the snow away from the 
door.” 

Ross stood back, unconscious of the nip of the 
cold on his nose and cheeks, and watched Sandy 
shoveling with a will, the while talking con- 
solingly. 

“ I don’t believe the thieves have come anigh ye ; 
don’t look so, anyway. It’s likely some one who’s 
a grudge against some of us. There’s plenty holds 
grudges agin Lon. Wisht he’d stayed in the val- 
ley — here ye be ! Ketch a holt of this side of the 
door. Now, one, two, three ! ” 

The door yielded to their combined efforts, and 
Ross rushed in with Sandy at his heels. His fin- 
gers were so numbed he could scarcely raise the lid 
of the dynamite box. A film seemed to cover his 
eyes, and in the light which entered grudgingly 
only by way of the door he could see nothing. He 
248 


TENDERFOOT 


bent his head further over the box, but it was San- 
dy’s voice which confirmed his worst fears. 

Not a stick left. They’ve made a clean sweep 
of Medder Creek Valley ! ” 

The film cleared from Ross’s eyes, but not from 
his brain. The box was empty — the box which 
had contained the stuff absolutely necessary to the 
work in the tunnel. 

Ross glanced up and met Sandy’s eyes. Sandy’s 
eyes looked steadily and guilelessly into Ross’s, 
and Sandy’s face expressed all the sympathy and 
commiseration of which Ross stood in need. 

The boy. sat down on the edge of the box. 
“ What shall I do ? ” he asked, his thoughts in a 
whirl. 

Do about th’ same as we’ve got t’ — git out ! ” 
quoth Sandy with a lugubrious shake of his head. 

Here we got Lon up here t’ help push our work, 
and now we’re up a stump ; for ye know ” — here 
Sandy’s eyes held Ross’s while he spoke slowly — 
there’s no use thinkin’ about gittin’ any over 
from Camp. No one ’ud be crazy enough to resk 
packin’ a load of sticks around the shoulder this 
time of year.” 

Ross shivered as he thought of the shoulder 
under its body of snow. 

“ When are you going ? ” he asked. 

To-morrow,” answered Sandy promptly. 

249 


ROSS GRANT 


** We’ll start then, but we’ll have to shovel 
through. You’ll have t’ lead Weimer, won’t ye ? ” 

Ross swallowed twice before he answered. 

Yes, I suppose so.” 

We’ll help ye.” Sandy’s tones were good- 
natured and soothing. He seemed suddenly to 
have lost all regret at the disappearance of his 
store of dynamite. “ We’ll break open the trail, 
and then we can rope ourselves together around 
the shoulder. That’s safer.” 

“ All right,” Ross heard himself say in an un- 
natural voice. He could not in an instant adjust 
himself to this radical uprooting of his plans. 

It’ll be a ticklish job,” Sandy continued, “ t’ 
break through around the shoulder without 
bringin’ down the hull side of old Crosby on 
us, includin’ a few rocks ; but every day now we 
put it off is so much the worse.” 

He turned to go. Then we’ll pick ye up in 
the mornin’ ; will we ? ” 

Why — I suppose so,” returned Ross. There 
doesn’t seem to be anything else to do.” 

“ Better not load up much,” warned Sandy ; 
** and don’t give Uncle Jake a load at all. All 
we’re goin’ to try to pack over is a little venison.” 

Then Sandy disappeared, and Ross suddenly 
recovered from his mental numbness. It was the 
sting of anger which aroused him. So confused 
250 


TENDERFOOT 


and disappointed had he been, and so well had 
Sandy played his part, that the true solution of 
the theft did not dawn on the boy until the other’s 
departure. Then he stopped short on the down- 
ward trail and uttered an exclamation, his hands 
clinching inside his mittens, and his eyes narrow- 
ing and flashing. 

Of course, it was Sandy’s own brain which had 
planned the matter and Sandy’s own henchmen 
who had made off with the sticks. They had taken 
this way of stopping the progress of work in the 
tunnel. They had waited until no more dynamite 
could be brought over the trail, calculating that 
when the time came for the claims to be patented 
one half year’s work would be undone, and then I 

Ross started blindly down the path. He would 
go over to the Camp with the McKenzies. He 
would go down to Meeteetse with them — no officer 
of the law could be found nearer, and there he 
would put them all under arrest. Here he stopped 
again. Arrest them on what evidence? Face to 
face with this question, he was obliged to acknowl- 
edge the neatness of the scheme which had for its 
first point the theft of their own sticks. Could 
he prove that no one had come over the trail after 
he reached the valley? And could he prove that 
the dynamite had not been taken by this mythical 
some one ? 


251 


ROSS GRANT 


Ross thought of what Steele had said concerning 
trusting Sandy with his pocketbook. Sandy would 
have the contents of the purse, Steele said, but he’d 
take care to get them in such a way that he could 
shake hands afterward with the owner, as well as 
face any jury. 

And Steele,” Ross muttered, drawing a long 
breath, was right.” 

The news of the loss seemed to jar Weimer back 
into a semblance of his former intelligence. In- 
stead of ranting as Ross expected he would he sat 
down and talked over the situation reasonably 
with his young partner. It was Weimer, in fact, 
who restored something like hope to Ross. 

He objected to leaving the valley with the 
McKenzies. He had been over that valley and 
the surrounding mountains inch by inch, he told 
Ross. Let that “ consarned gang ” be gone. They 
two would stay and bring the dynamite to light. 
Then he told of place after place on the mountain 
which would make excellent hiding-places for the 
sticks. There were many caves, and some of them 
dry. Weimer reasoned the gang ” would cache 
the sticks in a dry place for their own future use. 

Temporarily the old partner and the young 
changed places, and, as Ross listened, he became 
stout of heart once more. 

“ Of course,” he exclaimed, if dynamite can’t 
252 


TENDERFOOT 


be carried up the trail, neither can it be taken back 
into Camp. It's got to be somewhere around here ; 
and, if we hunt for it a month, we can still get the 
work done in time." 

Vy didn't I tink of dem sticks ? " Weimer 
asked angrily. might know dem consarned 
gang pe up to somet'ing ven dey see our vork it 
vas gettin' fast I Vy didn't I tink ? " 

Ross, having lapsed into his own thoughts, 
made no reply ; and Weimer arose from the box 
where he had been sitting, and crawled into his 
bunk. 

Ross paced the floor slowly, his arms folded be- 
hind him. Ross's fighting blood was up. Before 
this he had looked at his work as the result of his 
father's request. It was not to his liking, and the 
only actual pleasure he took in it was the prospect 
of finishing it. He had believed before the theft 
of the sticks that he would welcome anything 
which really necessitated his leaving Meadow 
Creek Valley, although he would accept nothing 
less than necessity. 

But this theft seemed suddenly to have made 
the work his own and the failure to accomplish it 
a personal defeat. Instead of rejoicing over the 
prospect of leaving Meadow Creek Valley he wel- 
comed eagerly Weimer's suggestion that they stay 
and hunt for the dynamite, even though the hunt 

253 


ROSS GRANT 


meant that, dynamite or no dynamite, they must 
be shut up in the valley for months to come. 

Suddenly a new fear caused him to scramble 
hastily into his coat, cap, and mittens. 

I^m going to fetch the tools down,'' he ex- 
plained grimly. I'm not going to risk having 
some one make off with them ! " 

“ Dat ist so," assented Weimer. ** Ve vill need 
dose tools ; ve vill. Dose McKenzie gang vill see. 
I can find dose sticks, und I know I can." 

None of the McKenzies came over that evening, 
to ^Ross's relief, for the events of the day had 
brought a new fear of that outfit. Sandy's good- 
natured neighborliness had deceived him. Now 
for the first time he realized that they were actual 
enemies, ready to stoop to any means within the 
law to baffle him. 

It was scarcely daylight the following morning, 
although breakfast in the Weimer cabin had been 
disposed of, before there was heard a tramp of feet 
outside through the creaking snow, and Sandy 
with a heavy pack on his back appeared at the 
door. 

“ All ready t' strike the trail ? " he asked, put- 
ting his head inside the shack. 

There was an instant's silence, during which 
Sandy's face changed as he looked quickly from 
Ross to Weimer. The latter sat beside the table, 
254 


TENDERFOOT 

his head resting on his hand, his elbow on the 
boards. 

Ross answered, ‘‘ We can't get ready to go so 
quickly." 

For a moment Sandy's face was the face which 
had appeared at the window the night Weston was 
indulging in mimicry, but for a moment only. 
Then he rallied and assumed an air of concerned 
astonishment. 

^^What? Not ready? Why, man alive, yer 
chance may be gone if ye wait another day. Uncle 
Jake, you ought to know that, if Doc here don't. 
Why, we're afraid we can't come it even by ropin' 
together. Better hustle up and come." 

Both Weimer and Ross sat still, and after a little 
further parley Waymart called angrily : 

** Hike along here, Sandy. Guess they know 
what they want t' do better 'n you do. Make 
tracks here ! " 

The three made tracks," while Ross stood and 
watched them out of sight. 

But after they had gone the boy, uneasy lest 
they should return to do the tunnel some damage, 
climbed the trail and entered the tool house. The 
house was fastened between two trees which 
grew at one side of the dump, the side furthest 
from the trail across the mountain toward Miners' 
Camp. 


255 


ROSS GRANT 


Ross had entered aimlessly after assuring him- 
self that the door at the mouth of the tunnel had 
not been opened. He stood silently looking out 
of a crack down on the mass of snow which glis- 
tened at the foot of the dump, when he was startled 
by seeing Sandy on snow-shoes creep around the 
dump and look up. 

Only a glance upward did Sandy give, and 
them, turning, disappeared. Yet his face had ap- 
peared anxious before that upward glance, while 
afterward there was on it a satisfied smile. 

The hours that followed were anxious ones for 
the two remaining in Meadow Creek Valley. 
They began a hunt for the dynamite as soon as 
the McKenzies had disappeared. Starting at the 
McKenzie shack and discovery hole they widened 
the search in a circle which finally included the 
valley and the sides of the adjoining mountains, 
with a single important omission ; it did not occur 
to either of them to examine their own premises 
further than to assure themselves that neither tool 
house nor tunnel had suffered any damage from 
their friends the enemy.” 

At four o’clock came the first signs of dusk and, 
discouraged, the partners moved slowly across the 
valley. Half-way across, Ross chanced to glance 
up at the stovepipe projecting from the roof of 
their shack. 

256 


TENDERFOOT 


** A fire ! he shouted. Look there, Uncle 
Jake I Some one has built up the fire ! 

At that instant the door swung open and Leslie 
Quinn stood in the doorway. 


257 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE SEARCH 

Over fried bacon, sour dough bread and varied 
“canned goods,” Leslie told his story to an 
interested and excited audience of two. The day 
of Rosses arrest he had shouldered a pack of stuff 
selected from the trunk which still stood under 
the new third bunk, waited until twilight so that 
he could not be seen on the trail, and then, on 
snow-shoes, had made his way over Crosby and up 
Wood River canon to Wilson^s cabin on the coal 
claims. 

“ You see,” he said, a flush sweeping over his 
face, “ I supposed father was at Cody, and I 
wouldn’t have faced him without that five hun- 
dred dollars for all the gold that may be in these 
mountains, and, besides, the way he had taken to 
get even with me — well, I don’t need to say how 
it cuts I ” Here Leslie bent over his plate in shame. 
“ Although — I — well, of course, I deserve it, but I 
didn’t think he’d go as far as that.” 

“Hold on. Less!” Ross jumped up from the 
table so suddenly that the box on which he had 
been sitting was knocked over. “ Here’s a letter 
258 


TENDERFOOT 

to you in my care. It has been here so long I had 
forgotten it.’^ 

He pulled the emergency chest from under his 
bunk and produced both of Mr. Quinn's letters — 
the one to himself and the one yet unopened. 

There you are I ” he exclaimed, tossing both 
across the table. “ I take it from what your 
father says in mine that he thought of the arrest 
not as a punishment, but as the way in which he 
could be sure of getting his hands on you quickly 
in Omaha." 

Eagerly Leslie read both letters, his troubled 
face lighting and softening. “ You're right," he 
said finally in a low tone. I guess dad is — is more 
all right than — than I used to think. I've been 
no end of an idiot," frankly. 

He folded his letter and slipped it into his 
slicker pocket while Weimer urged : 

You was mit dot shack, und dey found you 
not, hein ? " 

'' But I want to hear about Ross's " 

No, no," interrupted Ross. Finish out your 
story first. Mine will look like thirty cents at the 
end of yours. I'm not exactly proud of myself." 

Vilson's shack," prompted Weimer, pushing 
his plate back and planting both elbows on the 
table. 

Leslie continued his story in a new exuberance 
259 


ROSS GRANT 


of spirits, occasionally fingering the letter in his 
pocket. He had foreseen that Wilson^s shack 
would be searched, and so, trusting to the drifting 
snow to conceal his trail, he had, during the night, 
packed provisions into one of the many deserted 
shacks in the upper camp. He had selected one 
overlooking the trail up Crosby. It had two 
rooms, one behind the other, the back room hav- 
ing an outside door and but one small window. 
Leaving the first room undisturbed, he had stowed 
his provisions in the back room, which also con- 
tained a bunk. 

'' I can tell you that it was hard sledding for 
me until after the sheriff and the McKenzies came 
and went that day,” he continued ruefully. I 
had brought along my blankets, but I didn^t dare 
light a fire, and I nearly froze and nearly starved 
on cold canned stuff. But after the sheriff had 
gone back — you see I could watch the camp from 
the back room window — and the McKenzies had 
passed the shack on the trail over here, I hung 
blankets over the windows and had a fire nights 
when the smoke wouldn^t be seen. I could cook 
at night and early in the morning and so got along 
fairly well. But I expected them all back again 
for another search, so mornings I used to vacate 
the outside room and leave it the same as it had 
been.” 


260 


TENDERFOOT 

** Why didn^t you come over sooner ? ” asked 
Ross. 

Don^t you see that I couldn’t/^ demanded 
Leslie, ‘‘so long as the McKenzies were here? I 
knew, though, that they had told Wilson that they 
were not going to stay all winter. They told him 
they would go to Cody as soon as they thought 
the Crosby trail was getting dangerous. So I 
watched that trail like a cat for them to go and 
for my chance to get here.’’ 

“ Vilson he vent out,” interrupted Weimer. 

“ Yes, Uncle Jake, I saw him go, but I lay low. 
I was afraid of the consequences of being seen. I 
had no idea that father had been put off. I was 
sure he would come on himself, and I knew that 
if father once struck my trail he’d unearth me. 
He never gives up.” 

“ Then, this morning ” prompted Ross. 

“ Yes, this morning when I saw the McKenzies 
coming down the trail bag and baggage, I humped 
myself to get ready to get over here before their 
tracks got filled up. I knew that if they could 
get one way I could get the other way to-day, but 
maybe not to-morrow. And I tell you what,” 
here Leslie arose and stretched out his arms, 
“ I’ve been living these weeks as close and cramped 
a prisoner as I ever want to be. I could get out 
nights a little because the camp came to be about 
261 


ROSS GRANT 

deserted, but I was cooped up all day in the 
shack/^ 

Far into the night the boys talked, while 
Weimer alternately listened and dozed. When 
Ross was well launched on the story of his arrest 
he became at once embarrassed, wondering how 
he was going to evade the matter of Lon Weston 
and the note. He finally compromised by ending 
the story of his capture in a partial account of his 
conversation with Sandy in the barroom of The 
Irma,'^ and Leslie, taking it for granted that his 
father^s name and address came from Sandy, did 
not ask embarrassing questions. 

It^s as I suspected, then,^’ he added slowly. 

The McKenzies were probably employed on the 
ranches around home at some time. The cowboys 
and sheep-herders are always coming into the 
town, and probably they all knew me by sight, 
while I didnT know them one from another.^^ 

Ross checked the question which arose to his 
lips concerning the fourth man that Mr. Quinn 
was after, and shortly after, the bo3^s tumbled 
into their bunks, Ross with a feeling of deep re- 
lief that the third bunk would be occupied during 
the winter. 

I didnT do so badly in Cody after all, as it has 
all turned out,^^ he thought comfortably as he fell 
asleep. 


262 


TENDERFOOT 


He was only half awakened a few moments 
later by an exclamation from the third bunk, 
and heard Leslie say, By the way, Ross, 

who was then the question, Are you 

asleep? 

Ross, without replying, sank into a deeper 
sleep, and Leslie said no more. Weimer was al- 
ready snoring. 

The following morning Ross tumbled out at 
daybreak and built a roaring fire in the old 
cracked heater. He glanced at the third bunk 
and began whistling cheerfully. Perhaps they 
could find the dynamite now that there was a 
second with sound eyes to aid in the search and 
a sound brain to help plan. If only the sticks 
could be found the early spring would see the 
work completed and the claims patented. 

The first thing Weimer did when he arose was 
to go to the door and survey sky and mountains 
with practiced eye, as he sniffed the bracing air. 
The sky was overcast and lowering, while a sharp 
wind drove the snow in eddies and drifts through 
the valley. 

“ Der vill pe a pig storm mit us,'' he prophesied ; 
it ist on its vay. It vill get here in dree, four 
days." 

^‘Hear that. Less?" shouted Ross at the new 
bunk. You turn out and we'll be off. We've 
263 


ROSS GRANT 


got to unearth that dynamite before any more 
snow piles up here around us.” 

Leslie left his bunk with a bound. “ I’m good 
for it. How’s breakfast ? When I filled up last 
night I thought I’d never need anything more 
and here I am as hollow as a drum ! ” 

At the breakfast table, he suddenly bethought 
himself of the question he had meant to ask the 
previous night. “ I say, Doc,” he exclaimed, 
who was the third man with the McKenzies 
yesterday ? My cabin wasn’t near enough the 
trail so that I could see.” 

Ross hesitated and Weimer answered, Dot vas 
a cousin of the McKenzies, name of Lon Veston.” 

There was a clatter and a fall as knife and fork 
slipped out of Leslie’s hands. Lon Weston I ” he 
ejaculated. “ Lon Weston here? A cousin of the 
McKenzies ? ” 

Know him ? ” asked Ross. 

Leslie picked up his fork. Know Lon ? Well, 
I should say so. He’s made trouble enough at 

home ” He bit his lips suddenly and stopped, 

adding, He was foreman on a ranch near North 
Bend for a couple of years. He — he used to come 
to our house a good deal.” 

In a flash Ross recalled the photo that had 
dropped out of Weston’s pocket at Sagehen Roost, 
the pretty girl face, and instantly he knew why 
264 


TENDERFOOT 


Hank had said of Leslie when he rode away with 
Wilson, ** Seems as if I^d seen that there young 
feller before.” 

Yes, they are surely brother and sister,” Ross 
decided, his gaze fixed critically on Leslie^s down- 
cast face. “ They look tremendously alike.” 

Veston, he vas de man dot Doc here mended,” 
Weimer volunteered. Doc vas at Dry Creek mit 
Veston.” 

Leslie glanced quickly across the table. “ Not 
the man who was there when I passed through — 
the day I was with Wilson — not that one, Ross ? ” 

The same,” nodded Ross. He's the Lon 
Weston that I know.” 

Then he isn't the Lon Weston that I know,” 
said Leslie with conviction and also relief. That, 
man at Dry Creek had dark hair, while the ranch 
foreman had hair as light almost as Sandy's. Not 
the same at all.” 

And because of the note at The Irma,” Ross did 
not contradict Leslie, did not tell him that Weston's 
hair was still light beneath its dye of chestnut 
brown. 

** But some day,” he thought, I can ask him 
about the fourth man that his father is after, and 
so find out about Weston in a roundabout way.” 

But the search for the dynamite soon proved so 
strenuous that all thought of the crime committed 
265 


ROSS GRANT 


on the North Fork faded from Rosses mind. Day 
after day the boys continued the search while 
Weimer stayed in the cabin rustling grub and 
giving suggestions. The theft of the sticks seemed 
to have shocked the man into something of his 
former mental keenness and industry. Not once 
did Ross have to urge him to his household tasks. 
When the boys tramped into the cabin at noon or 
long after darkness had fallen, they found a hearty 
appetizing meal prepared, the cook even going to 
the length of objecting to their washing the 
dishes. 

If you dem sticks find,’^ he would say, ‘‘ Ich 
vill stay mit dese dishes.^’ 

“ Uncle Jake,^^ exclaimed Ross at noon the third 
day of the hunt, “ I’m discouraged. We have 
poked into every spot for miles around where such 
a lot of dynamite could be hidden — and then have 
gone again.” 

** I’m almost ready to believe,” declared Leslie, 
that the boys had the sticks in their packs when 
they left.” 

Weimer shook his head. No, never would 
dose poys pe so foolish. Dose sticks are here, hein ? 
Somewhere in Meadow Creek Valley ve vill find 
dem,” but the old man’s voice broke on the dec- 
laration. 

Of course it couldn’t be that the McKenzies 
266 


TENDERFOOT 


carried them away/^ affirmed Ross. If there had 
been six men of them they couldn’t have carried 
away all the dynamite that we had and Wilson 
had and they had. In fact they couldn’t have car- 
ried it all very far that night and in the teeth of 
the awful storm that howled among these peaks. 
I believe with Uncle Jake that the stuff is in this 
valley.” 

You see, Uncle Jake,” Ross began after a pause, 
we have gone on the supposition that they chose 
a spot under the cover of rocks or in hollow trees, 
some place where the dynamite would be kept dry. 
Now, it may be that they have dug a hole in the 
snow and ice, and buried it in the open, and the 
snow has drifted over its grave.” 

“ Maype I maype I ” Weimer ejaculated. Put, 
if dey haf, our goose, it ist cooked.” 

He pushed the box on which he sat back against 
the wall. 

Ross opened the cabin door, and looked out. 
The weather had grown warmer. The blanket of 
clouds which had hovered over the earth for days 
had lifted and the snow lay dazzling in the strong 
light. When he closed the door, Weimer had 
donned his blue goggles. 

Where’s your big storm. Uncle Jake ? ” asked 
Ross. 

Cornin’, cornin’,” answered Uncle Jake confi- 
267 


ROSS GRANT 

dently. It vill pe on us py mornin'. Dis light 
it vill not last/’ 

Ross sat down and took his head in his hands, 
his elbows on his knees. 

Every fall of snow,” he thought, makes our 
work so much more hopeless.” 

Presently Weimer broke the silence. “ Veil,” 
he began meditatively, ve haf t’ings to eat fer 
de vinter, anyvay,” and Ross understood the cir- 
cle around which Uncle Jake’s thoughts had been 
winding. 

Yes, it’s Meadow Creek for us now, whether 
the dynamite is found or not.” Ross’s voice was 
grim. “ We went over on the trail as far as the 
shoulder of Crosby to-day and whew I Uncle Jake, 
it was a sight to see. The wind has packed the 
snow into that trail until it hangs over the gorge 
in great masses and curls.” 

Looks,” added Leslie, as though a thousand 
tons or so might sweep down over the shoulder any 
minute. The trail is closed all right as far as I’m 
concerned. If I hadn’t come in the McKenzies’ foot- 
prints that morning I wouldn’t have come at all.” 

After dinner the boys fastened on their snow- 
shoes outside the door and then looked question- 
ingly at each other. 

“ Well — where to now ? ” asked Leslie despond- 
ently. 


268 


TENDERFOOT 


** Sure enough — where ? returned Ross equally 
despondent. 

Weimer had offered no suggestions, and the boys 
were at the end of their resources. 

“ We^ve hunted every place, said Ross ab- 
sently, adjusting a buckle on the strap of his snow- 
shoe, except our own premises here.^^ 

No sooner had he heard his own voice speaking 
these careless words than their possible significance 
struck him. He sprang up with kindling eyes. 

Less, do you hear ? he shouted, his thoughts in 
advance of his tongue. “ There’s where it may be, 
and maybe that was the reason why Sandy came 
back and looked. Hurry ! Hurry up I ” 

What are you talking about? ” yelled Leslie as 
Ross raced awkwardly around the cabin on his 
snow-shoes. 

Weimer opened the door and peered out through 
his colored goggles. “ Has dot poy gone crazy ? ” 
he asked. 

Leslie, without pausing to answer, hurried after 
Ross. ‘‘ Where to ? ” he yelled. 

The tool house,” returned Ross over his shoul- 
der. “ It’s fastened between two trees, and hangs 
out over the foot of the dump ! See? ” 

But, instead of taking the trail to the tunnel, 
Ross struck across the mounds and hillocks and 
drifts of snow that blocked the trail leading to 
269 


ROSS GRANT 


Miners^ Camp. Through the tangle of pines and 
hemlocks he led the way until he stopped at the 
foot of the snow-heaped dump and looked up at 
the tool house, one side of which rested on the 
dump, while the opposite side was fastened to 
sturdy hemlocks whose trunks arose from the 
debris heaped about them from the tunnel. The 
tool house was now a shapeless white form, while 
the dump was buried beneath tons of snow. 

It was here,^’ Ross explained breathlessly, 
that Sandy stood. I was looking out at the 
McKenzies from a crack up in the house. He 
came back and looked up under the house and 
then grinned and went back to the others. They 
had started to leave, you know. Now why did he 
want to look under that house ? ” 

“ That^s it ! cried Leslie with excited convic- 
tion. “They hM cached the stuff under the 
house and he wanted to make sure that their trail 
could not be seen. Ross, the^sticks are up under 
there, high and dry.’^ 

“ You bet ! shouted Ross turning in his tracks. 
“ We’ll get shovels and dig for it. And, Less, if 
we ‘find the cache, we’ll let off one blast around 
here outside of the tunnel that ’ill show them, if 
they’re still over in Camp, that we ain’t dead yet.” 

Nor dumb and stupid, either ! ” cried Leslie 
delightedly as he legged it rapidly over the snow. 

270 







SHIELDING HIS EYES WITH ONE HAND 


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TENDERFOOT 


In the door of the shack they found Weimer 
still standing, shielding his eyes with one hand 
and calling questions into space. The boys, ap- 
pearing, stopped to answer, not only satisfying the 
old man but receiving a valuable suggestion. 

Vat for you dig mit all dot vork ? It vill dake 
you poys a day und a half to git up unter dot 
shack. Vy not go in und raise dot floor und find 
dem sticks unter ? 

Leslie tossed up his cap. “Three cheers for 
Uncle Jake!^^ he shouted. “That^s the very 
thing to do. We^ll get around to that signal blast 
sooner. Come on, Ross ! ** 

It was Leslie who led this time, axe in hand, 
while Ross followed with hammer and shovel. 
The trail to the tunnel had been unused for days 
and was so deeply drifted that the boys had diffi- 
culty in getting up to the dump even with the aid 
of the shovel. Once on top they were obliged to 
shovel their way slowly into the tool house. 

“ Now,^^ exclaimed Ross when they were fairly 
in, “ now for work with these floor boards I ” 
Leslie, with many grunts, fell to clearing away 
the snow from the floor, while Ross pulled the big 
box in which the dynamite had been stored from 
the center of the shack into one corner. 

“ See here, Ross,^^ cried Leslie excitedly as he 
bent to the last shovelful of snow. “ We don’t 
271 


ROSS GRANT 


need axe nor hammer. The McKenzies have done 
the work for us. The floor has been taken up and 
just laid back again without being spiked down. 
That box held the planks down pretty flrmly, you 
see.^' 

The floor consisted of halves of tree trunks, flat 
above and rounded on the under side. Eagerly 
Ross and Leslie raised the central plank and both 
cried out simultaneously, for the dynamite filled 
the space beneath up to the level of the floor. 

“ And to think ! muttered Ross, “ that I have 
not thought of this before — didn't think of it 
when I saw Sandy peering up here." 

Leslie sat back on his heels and mopped his 
face. Pretty cute of 'em to think of a thing like 
this," he conceded. “ I should have taken the 
sticks as far away as I could have carried them had 
I been doing it, and considered that the farther I 
went the better for my plans." 

It's Sandy," declared Ross. Steele has told 
me a dozen times that he's the brains of the 
clan." 

It did not take the trio long to restore the dyna- 
mite to its box, for Ross, going down to the cabin, 
led a delighted Weimer through the sunshine up 
to the tool house, and Weimer willingly devoted 
his great strength to the task. 

“ And," insisted Leslie when their task was com- 
272 


TENDERFOOT 


pleted, now for putting the shot that shall tell 
Miners^ Camp that we^re livelier than ever over 
here/^ 

As long as the trail was closed and the McKen- 
zies could not return, the boys reasoned, it would 
be a lark to inform them in this way of the failure 
of their project. 

“ Even if they have gone on to Cody,^^ suggested 
Ross, Bill Travers might get the news to ^em by 
way of the stages.^' 

“ But you see,” ruefully from Leslie, probably 
there^s no one except themselves that knows of 
our plight. They may not have told any one of 
the theft of the sticks.” 

** Well, we’ll set off a blast that will tell every 
one that they’re found, anyway I ” retorted Ross. 

And we’ll do it in the morning before the storm 
comes on,” for the brilliancy of the sunlight had 
long been dimmed by heavy banks of clouds roll- 
ing in from the northwest. 

Weimer entered into the project with the abandon 
of a child, and it was he who suggested the location 
of the shot.” 

Nicht on Crosby,” he said shaking his head. 
** Dot might upset dot tunnel. Put it mit Soap- 
weed Ledge und see vat comes.” 

The boys did not ask what Weimer meant. 
Anything they did not understand they laid to 

273 


ROSS GRANT 


his “ Dutch lingo/^ but they immediately adopted 
the suggestion concerning Soapweed Ledge, and in 
the morning carried enough sticks across the valley 
to plant a respectable mine,^’ as Ross called it, be- 
neath one of the huge rocks which jutted out from 
the side of the mountain that bounded the valley 
on the north. This mountain rose four thousand 
feet above Meadow Creek, its head lost in the snow 
clouds that now threatened to submerge the valley. 
On the face of the mountain lay a great body of 
snow, especially heavy above the timber-line, which 
here, because of the great elevation of the valley 
itself, was only a few hundred feet above the base 
of any mountain. 

Weimer, lured out of the shack by the dimness 
of the light and the enjoyment of the undertaking, 
went with the boys and did his share in the ** pack- 
ing of the sticks unurged. It was he who, with 
an accession of unusual keenness, planted the 
charge in a shallow cave with a mass of rock 
perilously overhanging the entrance. 

*‘Ve vant ein noise, he chuckled, **ein pig 
racket. It shall pe heard in Miners\’^ 

A few moments later they had the noise, all 
they had planned for, and then a noise that no 
one had foreseen save Weimer, and he had not ex- 
plained his expectations. 

While the long fuse was burning, the three 
274 


TENDERFOOT 


spectators had retreated to the middle of the 
valley and faced about expectantly. There came 
a fearful detonation which awakened the echoes 
on every hand and the vast rock with a dozen of 
its neighbors was lifted like lumps of clay and 
hurled into the valley amid a cloud of snow and 
ice. Some of the fragments landed almost at the 
feet of the spectators. 

The echoes had not died away before Weimer, 
yelling, Ve may not pe out of de vay far,'^ 
turned and made his clumsy but rapid way on 
snow-shoes further from the scene of the ex- 
plosion. The boys were following him blindly 
and excitedly when, in the clouds fairly over 
their heads, came a sound that neither had ever 
heard before, a wrenching, grinding, tearing sound 
which caused Ross’s hair to stir under his cap. 

** Can th-that be thunder? ” he stammered run- 
ning. 

Weimer looked over his shoulder at the moun- 
tain. ** You haf neber an avalanche seen, hein ! ” 
he cried, and stopping, faced the other way again. 

Down into view below the low hanging clouds 
it swept its terrible way, that avalanche which the 
trembling of the mountain had caused, the work 
of the dynamite. With a swift overwhelming 
rush it crumbled the rocks and, uprooting great 
trees, bore them easily on its bosom. Into the 
275 


ROSS GRANT 

valley it debouched, carrying with it the wreck- 
age from the mountainside. 

Ross and Leslie looked at each other with white 
faces when the roar and grind and rush finally 
ceased. 

‘‘ Suppose, suggested Ross huskily, we had 
set that blast off on old Crosby.^^ 

Both boys looked at the mountain overhanging 
the tunnel above their shack, and Ross shivered. 

“ It would have been good-bye to the tunnel and 
the shack and us too, I guess/^ muttered Leslie. 

I told you,^^ declared Weimer, vat vould 
happen, hein? I told you last nicht. Now ein 
avalanche you haf seen.” 

Neither boy contradicted his first statement. 
With the last they agreed rather breathlessly, 
for an avalanche they surely had seen ! 

I hope,” said Ross carelessly as they entered 
their shack, *Hhat the McKenzies are still in 
Miners^ and that they heard that blast I ” 


276 


CHAPTER XIV 


A PEKILOUS JOURNEY 

The following morning the three inhabitants of 
Meadow Creek Valley began work again in the 
tunnel. The air was filled with a smother of 
snow which fell unaccompanied by wind. When, 
the following day, the sky cleared, over the path 
of the avalanche and over the ruins of Soapweed 
Ledge lay a concealing blanket of snow three feet 
deep. 

Whew I shivered Ross as he led the goggled 
Weimer over the snow to the tunnel that morning. 

Wish we had a thermometer up here. This is 
some cold. Must be minus zero by a long way.^^ 
Mine nose ist my thermometer,^^ complained 
Weimer, rubbing that whitening member. Aber 
dis weather it holds nicht. Anoder snow falls in 
dree, four days.’^ 

The third day proved the truth of this prophecy. 
The atmosphere became many degrees warmer and 
the sky lowering. 

“ More snow,^^ sighed Leslie, looking over the 
silent, white sheeted valley with homesick eyes. 

277 


ROSS GRANT 


“ Und den more,” added Weimer complacently. 

More und more till June.” 

That noon it chanced that Weimer, being 
afflicted with a headache, left the tunnel early. 
A little later, Ross, pushing the little car out to 
the dump, called back to Leslie at work with the 
drill : 

‘‘Guess I’ll go down and rustle the grub for 
Uncle Jake. That headache of his is genuine.” 

“ All right,” assented Leslie, “ I’ll be down in 
half an hour or so. I want to put this shot before 
I go.” 

Ross found Weimer in a state of great excite- 
ment, the headache forgotten. He stood at the 
door of the shack, peering up toward the tunnel, 
both hands shielding his blinking eyes. 

“Who vas dot man? ” he demanded in a high, 
eager voice. 

“ What man. Uncle Jake ? ” Ross stopped short, 
staring at Weimer as though he were bereft of his 
senses. 

“ I see him I ” declared Weimer. “ He vas shust 
startin’ up dot trail py de tunnel. I see his pack. 
He vore ein pag on it. He vore ein cap mit 
goggles. I see him.” 

Ross looked up the mountainside incredulously. 
“ Why, Uncle Jake, I just left the tunnel and there 
was no one there but Leslie. I guess,” jocosely, 
278 


TENDERFOOT 


** your headache has made you * see things at 
night/ hasn't it? No one can get into the valley 
new, you know.'' 

Excitedly protesting and expostulating, half in 
English and half in German, Uncle Jake retreated 
inside the door, and taking up his position beside 
one of the little windows watched the trail to 
the tunnel while Ross, smiling at his partner's 
hallucination, built up the fire, cheerfully bang- 
ing the covers of the stove as he filled the fire-box 
with dry pine sticks. In the midst of this racket 
there entered the sound of crunching footsteps on 
the side opposite the shack from that occupied by 
Weimer. 

Hein I " yelled the latter springing up. Was 
sagen sie ? It ist somepody I " 

A rap thundered on the door, and it was thrust 
open at the same time unceremoniously, while a 
low, gruff voice inquired abruptly : 

** Is there a young doctor here ? " 

A man a little above medium height stood on 
the threshold. He wore buckskin trousers and a 
buckskin coat over a heavy sweater, giving him a 
bulky appearance. He had on snow-shoes, and 
strapped over his shoulder, a large leather game 
pouch sagged. Behind smoked goggles his eyes 
were blinking, like Weimer's, almost closed. His 
head and ears were covered with a shaggy fur cap, 
279 


ROSS GRANT 

which met his turned-up coat collar. His face 
was smooth above a fringe of black stubby whisk- 
ers, which ran from ear to ear under the chin. 
His voice, though gruff, was not unpleasant as he 
explained. 

“ Of course ^twas a month and more ago since 

they told me over t^ Red Lodge that His 

eyes fell on Ross. “ You’re him they call Doc 
Tenderfoot, ain’t ye ? ” 

Why — yes,” answered Ross. There was a 
pause between the two words caused by the 
speaker’s amazement at seeing a man drop in 
from — where ? 

“ Come in,” invited Weimer, und set down.” 

Don’t care if I do,” assented the stranger. 

He unbuckled his snow-shoes, and, leaving them 
outside, entered the shack. Turning down his 
coat collar, he loosened his cap, pushing it back 
on his head, thereby revealing the ends of short 
black hair. 

Haf you peen up to dat tunnel, hein?” de- 
manded Weimer with a triumphant glance at 
Ross. 

The stranger nodded, Yep. Didn’t see no 
signs of livin’ here and I did see some signs up t’ 
the mouth of the tunnel, but I didn’t see no good 
way of gittin’ up t’ it. When I got there I was 
over t’ other side of the dump and when I got up 
280 


TENDERFOOT 


on top of it I heard voices down here, so down 
here I put agin 1 

“ Did you come up from Miners' Camp? " asked 
Ross eagerly. 

The stranger shook his head. ^^No, I live 
toward the Divide on " The stranger inter- 

rupted himself to ask, ‘‘ Know the country over 
there, do you ? " 

Weimer shook his head. Only py hearsay." 

Well, we located on Sage wood Run, my pal 
and me, and " 

“ Didn't know dere vas a soul livin' in dem 
parts," exclaimed Weimer. 

** Me and my pal," returned the stranger. We 
hain't got no neighbor near enough to throw 
kisses to, that's sartain. You're the nighest." 

Prospector? " asked Weimer. 

Coal," returned the stranger. We're tryin' 
to hold down half a dozen claims." 

He turned from Weimer, and changed the subject 
in his queer, abrupt way. 

Pard's sick — hurt. Guess he'll pass up his 
checks afore long if he don't git help." 

He squinted through his goggles at Ross. ** Over 
t' Red Lodge they said you fixed up a feller down 
in Dry Creek good's new. So I come after ye fer 
a couple of days." 

Instantly Weimer became alarmed. Ross, he 
281 


ROSS GRANT 


can^t go und leave us, hein I When the sun pe 
shining I can^t get ^round. Ross, he must pe 
here to work. He can^t go mit you.^' 

Ross drew a long, perplexed breath, and said 
nothing. The stranger looked attentively at 
Weimer for the first time. 

Got a touch of the sun, too, have ye ? ” he 
asked. 

Weimer removed his goggles, and pressed his 
hands over his eyes. Yah, dot I has, a touch 
und more dan a touch. Ross here, he ainT leavin’ 
us to go mit you.” 

Still Ross stood silent. The stranger made no 
response to Weimer’s protestations, but, bending 
forward, regarded him closely. 

“What?” he burst out. “Are you Dutch 
Weimer? ” 

“ Dot ist vat dey call me,” assented Weimer, 
turning his bloodshot eyes on the stranger. 

The latter persisted in an incredulous voice, 
“ The Dutch Weimer who used to run a miners’ 
supply store down in Butte ? ” 

“ Dot same,” assented Weimer. “ Und who 
might you pe ? ” 

The stranger grinned, a one-sided grin which 
sent his right cheek up under the smoked goggles. 
“ Well, Uncle Jake, do you remember a little black- 
headed rascal that uster hang his chin on the edge 
282 


TENDERFOOT 


of yer counter about once a day and get a nickePs 
worth of candy ? ” 

Weimer wrinkled his brow in perplexity. Dere 
vas so many plack-heads/^ he muttered, scratching 
his head. 

The stranger grinned delightedly, and again his 
right cheek was pushed up under the goggles. 

Of course there was. I wa'nT the only calf run- 
ning around loose, I know. Well, do you re- 
member Marvin Miller 

‘‘ Hein ! cried Weimer. He held out his hand 
impulsively. “ Und are you Marvin Miller’s poy ? ” 

“ The same,” declared the stranger, grasping 
the hand. And didn’t you have a younger pard 
by the name of Grant ? ” 

'"Yah!” Weimer fairly shouted. ^'Dot I did, 
and he’s my pard yet.” 

Uster git his eyes about shut, and tighten his 
lips, when things didn’t go to suit ’im,” grinned 
Marvin Miller’s son. 

“ That’s my father all right ! ” cried Ross. 

The stranger drew back and whistled. Your 
dad I ” he exclaimed. Sho, now ; that’s not so ? ” 
It ist so,” Weimer broke in. “ His fader sends 
him to help me mit der vork in dese claims, und 
den dis consarned gang of McKenzies go and pack 

off der sticks ” and Weimer was launched on an 

account of their troubles, feeling perfectly at home 
283 


ROSS GRANT 


with the man who as a boy had hung over his 
counter in the old days when he was merchant 
and not prospector. 

Ross, too, felt his heart warm toward the man 
who had known his father ; and for an instant the 
present faded, and he was back East again among 
the old familiar surroundings. He was being 
looked over by the father who “ got his eyes about 
shut when the son did not please him ; he was 
being affectionately scolded by Aunt Anne and 
advised by Dr. Grant — but the thought of the 
doctor brought Ross up sharply against the purpose 
of the stranger's visit. 

A sick partner. Miller had said : but he, Ross, 
also had a sick partner, although the sickness was 
more of the mind than the body ; and that partner 
objected to his going. What should he do? His 
training with his uncle would leave him no choice 
if he had only himself to consult in the matter. 
He was better than no doctor at all, and he was 
called on for help ; therefore he must obey the 
call. But there was Weimer, who had learned to 
depend on him, and who, he feared, might relapse 
during his absence, however brief, into his former 
irresponsible state, for Leslie was, of course, a 
stranger to the methods which Ross had been 
obliged to employ to keep Weimer busy. Nor 
was Leslie, who had acted under Wilson's direction, 
284 


TENDERFOOT 


accustomed to going ahead with the work as Ross 
had been obliged to do. But if the trip would 
occupy only a couple of days — well, he could not 
refuse to go. 

Here he became conscious that Miller was 
addressing him, and that Uncle Jake was leaning 
eagerly toward him. 

If Doc here is willinV’ Miller was saying, we 
might go into cahoots this way : If my pard needs 
’im longer than a day 'r two. I'll come along back 
and buckle down t' work here 'n' help you out 
while he's there a-nussin' " 

** Yah, yah ! " consented Weimer eagerly. Den 
he may mit you go. You could do more vork dan 
Doc. You come pack und mit us vork." 

Ross, relieved, turned to the peg where hung his 
cap. ‘‘ I'll go up to the tunnel and get Leslie, 
Uncle Jake, and you take hold of the dinner." 

Leslie," repeated Miller carelessly. Who's 
he?" 

Ross, leaving Weimer to relate Leslie’s history, 
hurried up to the tunnel. He wanted to see Les- 
lie alone and give him numerous suggestions and 
directions beyond the reach of Weimer's ears. 

** Of course. Less," he ended as the two finally 
started toward the shack together, ** even if I do 
have to stay, and Miller comes back, he won’t know 
how to manage Uncle Jake in case he has a relapse 
285 


ROSS GRANT 


into the state that I found him in. And Miller 
looks like a strong willing fellow to work, so guess 
we won’t lose anything by my going. Anyway 
I’ve got to go, for he says his partner is in a bad 
way.” Miller’s partner, it seemed, had been caught 
under a log they were “ snaking ” down to the 
cabin. His arm was crushed and in bad shape. 

Seme way, Ross,” Leslie burst out uneasily, “ I 
mightily hate to have you go. I’ll be deadly lone- 
some up here without you even for a couple of 
days.” 

But if I’m not back then this Miller will be,” 
returned Ross hopefully, and he shows up rather 
agreeably.” 

After a hasty dinner, Ross selected from his chest 
all that he considered would be required. Some 
of the articles Miller put into his game pouch, 
Ross making up a bundle himself to bind on his 
own back and so divide the load. At one o’clock 
they started, with Weimer and Leslie standing in 
the doorway, the former urging them on with many 
expressions of hope for a speedy return that they 
might get ahead of dose consarned gang.” 

Ross walked after Miller easily. Those past few 
days on the mountainsides had accustomed him to 
the use of snow-shoes. Almost in silence they 
crossed the valley and began the ascent of what 
remained of Soapweed Ledge. 

286 


TENDERFOOT 


During the last hour the light had faded, and 
snow began to fill the air. From the base of the 
ledge the cabin on the other valley was barely visi- 
ble, and Ross could scarcely make out the figures 
standing in front of the door. 

Suddenly Miller turned with an exclamation. 
“ There ! I forgot something that I wanted t^ tell 
Uncle Jake. Wait here a minute, will ye? It'll 
not take me long t' go back." 

He walked rapidly over the snow across the val- 
ley, and disappeared into the cabin. Five minutes 
passed. He reappeared, and made his way more 
slowly back again. 

‘‘ All right," he shouted from the foot of the 
ledge. ‘‘Turn to the right, and go along above 
them rocks. That's the trail." 

At the top of the mountain Miller again took 
the lead. He had shifted the pouch to the front, 
and eased its weight with one hand. Ross noticed 
that it seemed much heavier than when he en- 
tered the cabin, but thought nothing further of the 
matter. 

Half an hour later he was on totally unfamiliar 
, ground among a labyrinth of “ sugar loaf " peaks 
i which they skirted and climbed, Miller pushing on 
I steadily and without words. 

! “ Hold yer wind," he directed Ross ; “ ye'll have 

i need of it before we reach camp." 
i 287 


ROSS GRANT 


The sky and earth were nearly blotted out now 
by the falling snow. Ross could see scarcely a 
dozen paces ahead. He could not tell whether 
they were headed east or west, north or south. 
They twisted and turned and turned again. The 
boy became leg- weary ; but Miller pressed on, seem- 
ingly unexhausted, the heavy game pouch drag- 
ging at his shoulder. 

<< We — we canT reach there to-night, can we?’^ 
Ross gasped at last. 

Miller turned his head but did not pause. 

Yep,” he answered, about dark.” 

Again in silence they went on. 

Finally, at five o'clock, they began to climb the 
gentle slope of a mountain which seemed to have 
no summit. Here for the first time his guide 
stopped to allow Ross to rest. Then he advanced 
slowly, step by step, prodding the snow deeply at 
the left of the blind trail he was following. 

What's the matter? ” Ross called the first time 
he saw Miller taking measure of the snow in this 
way. 

‘‘Gorge somewhere here,” Miller had replied. 
“ Wind's filled it up even from bank t' bank. If 
we sh' step off — why, there's a hundred feet or so 
below made up of spruces and snow. I don’t want 
t’ go down inf no such landscape.” 

Ross involuntarily hugged the upper side of the 
288 


TENDERFOOT 


mountain. He longed for their journey^s end. As 
they neared the top, the wind became active, cut- 
ting their faces and forcing Ross to turn his back 
and gasp for breath. 

Then came the descent, the storm thickening 
about them. Occasionally Miller threw a direc- 
tion or a warning over his shoulder, which always 
caused Rosses heart to leap fearfully. 

“ DonT go outside my tracks here. There^s a 
flat rock on the down side that ends in a ledge. 
Not a pretty slide t’ take,^^ he shouted once. 

Again it was : Be careful ahead here under 
that rock. Brace toward the inside of the trail. 
We may get a few pounds of snow on our heads.^^ 

For half an hour longer they tramped on stead- 
ily. Ross ached in every muscle. His feet were 
beginning to cramp. They almost refused to raise 
the snow-shoes and push them forward. Miller 
slackened his speed when he saw that Ross was 
nearly played out. 

A few minutes more, and weVe there,” he ex- 
plained. “ Keep up your courage.” 

And at that moment Ross thought he had need 
of courage. They had been descending the moun- 
tain gradually above timber-line, zigzagging back 
and forth across the face in such a way as would 
enable them to use their snow-shoes to the best ad- 
vantage. Now the storm lightened just enough to 
289 


ROSS GRANT 


enable Ross to see they were traveling along the 
edge of a cliff with an overhanging fringe of trees, 
and the cliff appeared to the boy to be the jump- 
ing off place into space. Right and left as far as 
the falling snow permitted him to see the cliff ex- 
tended. Above was the white bulk of the moun- 
tain ; below was nothing but storm. 

Along this cliff Miller had walked slowly, paus- 
ing occasionally to look up into the trees. Finally 
he gave a grunt of satisfaction, and, throwing his 
staff and the heavy pouch on the rock, took from 
the snow-laden branches of a pine a coil of slender 
new rope. 

Nerves good ? ” he asked jokingly. 

For what ? ” was Rosses startled response. 
Miller explained. Ross saw that for the first 
time the colored goggles were no longer astride the 
other’s nose. His cap was drawn down over his 
eyes, however, and his coat collar was turned up so 
that not much of his face was visible save his nose, 
“ If it was summer,” began Miller, busying him- 
self with the rope, we could get around this here 
little rock. But now there’s nothin’ t’ do but go 
over it, because the mountain on each side shelves 
down so steep now we couldn’t git down on snow- 
shoes or off ’em to save our necks. We’d bring 
down a load of snow on our heads if we should 
try.” 


290 


TENDERFOOT 


As he talked, he knotted the rope securely 
around a tree standing near the edge of the rock. 
“ Right here the cliff slopes so I can just slide you 
down,’^ Miller's gruff voice ran on in jerks, “and 
then I can slide after ye. But I take it you 
ain't used to mountains and this sort of game, 
and so I guess ye'd better hitch the end round yer 
waist." 

He tossed the end of the rope to Ross. “ Take off 
yer shoes, and pack 'em in your hand," he directed 
when with numb, trembling fingers the boy had 
knotted the rope. “ Forty feet down," Miller con- 
tinued, “ you’ll come to a ledge. Stop there, and 
free the line." 

A moment more, snow-shoes in hand, Ross was 
on his back sliding down an almost perpendicular 
wall, his hair doing its best to raise his cap from 
his head. Slowly he was let down, down, so far 
as he could see, into space. Then suddenly, just 
as he had closed his eyes in dizzy terror, his feet 
struck snow into which he sank to his knees, and 
the rope above slackened. 

The ledge had stopped him, but it seemed to 
Ross but an insecure footing hung between heaven 
and earth. It was a mere path across the face of 
the cliff not more than three feet wide at the 
widest part. 

Ross untied the end ; and then, as he felt it 
291 


ROSS GRANT 


jerked from behind him, he covered his eyes with 
his hand and stood shivering, crowding back 
against the cliff. 

It was the work of a moment only for Miller to 
slide down the rope and stand beside him. 

“ Hug the cliff,^^ directed Ross’s conductor 
shortly, ‘‘ and follow me. No, don’t put on your 
shoes. I’ll break the trail fer ye.” 

Slowly they crawled across the face of the cliff, 
the ledge leading downward. At the base they 
were in a winding canon scarcely twenty yards 
wide. Here they buckled on their snow-shoes 
again. 

If,” said Miller, bending over the straps, “ we 
see it’s best fer you t’ stay a few days with my pard 
and let me go back and help Uncle Jake, I wouldn’t 
do much investigatin’ of the premises around here 
if I was you.” 

Ross shuddered, and looked up at the face of the 
cliff, obscured now not only by the storm, but by 
the coming darkness. 

No investigating for me I ” he exclaimed force- 
fully. 

Then they began the tramp up the canon, the 
shadow from the wooded mountains deepening 
every moment. Finally, Miller made a sharp 
turn around a group of seven spruces standing at 
the foot of a peak, and cautiously approached a 
292 


TENDERFOOT 

log shack that stood half buried in the snow, and 
had as its corner posts four tall trees. The snow 
was shoveled away from the door and window, 
and a light smoke arose from the joint of stove- 
pipe projecting from the roof. 

At the door Miller stopped and listened. 

Guess he’s asleep,” he whispered. Take off yer 
shoes out here.” 

Ross stooped, and unbuckled his snow-shoes. 

“ Guess the fire must be low,” whispered Miller. 

Wisht you’d go round the corner there, and 
load up with wood while I go in and see what he’s 
up to. But don’t come in till I tell ye to. I’ll 
sort of prepare him to see ye.” 

Ross did as he was bidden. He found the path 
to the pile of pine chunks partly broken ; but, with 
his numb fingers incased in huge mittens, it was 
not easy work to dig out the wood frozen under 
its covering of snow. But finally, his arms full, 
he staggered around the corner of the shack, and 
stood again in front of the door. So busy had he 
been at the wood-pile that he had not thought of 
listening for sounds within the shack. 

Now, as he stood in the dusk before the door, he 
was surprised at the stillness within, and also by 
the fact that the window beyond the door showed 
no light. With a growing but vague uneasiness 
he waited, chilled to the bone by the wind, which 

293 


ROSS GRANT 


had begun to suck through the canon and whistle 
along the sides of the mountains. 

The few moments during which he waited 
seemed to him like years. Then he raised the 
wooden latch softly, and opened the door. Dark- 
ness and silence greeted him. 

“ Mr. Miller,” he whispered. 

No reply. 

“ Miller ! ” His voice rose sharply. 

The wind soughed through the branches over 
his head ; and a sharp flurry of snow, forerunner of 
the blizzard, assailed him, while from the open 
door came a whiff of warmth. 

Ross dropped the wood outside, and, stepping 
within the shack, closed the door, and groped his 
way toward the stove, from the front of which 
came a faint glow. 

Pulling off his mittens, he held his hands over 
the heat, at the same time holding his breath that 
he might hear the breathing of the sick man. 
But all he heard was the beating of the blood in 
his own ears. 

Working some life into his Angers, he tore open 
the front of his fur-lined coat, and, pulling a match 
out of his pocket, lighted it, and held it above his 
head. In the further corner of the cabin was a 
bunk, from beneath the blankets of which the 
straw protruded. Trembling so that he could 
294 


TENDERFOOT 


scarcely walk, Ross started across the floor. Half- 
way to the bunk his match burned out. He 
retreated to the stove, and lit another. This time 
he succeeded in reaching the bunk. Several 
blankets were spread over a foundation of straw. 
Otherwise the bunk was empty. 

A panic seized Ross. Miller I he shouted. 

Miller ! 

The wind howled through the cafion. The trees 
above the shack swayed and grated their inter- 
locked branches together. 

Striking a third match, Ross observed a candle 
stuck into a hole in a piece of wood which lay on 
the table. He lighted it, and sank into a chair 
beside the table. 

What had happened? Where was Miller? 
Where was the sick partner ? 

Ross took off his cap, and laid it on the table. 
In bewilderment he ran his Angers through his 
hair. 

Suddenly his eyes fell on something in the 
shadow beside the door. He went to it. It was 
the heavily loaded game pouch. Evidently Miller 
had opened the door, dropped that inside, and van- 
ished into the night. 

Ross was reaching for the pouch when another 
thought struck him so forcibly that he jerked 
himself to a standing posture with a loud exclama- 
295 


ROSS GRANT 


tion. Hastily opening the door, he stopped and, 
throwing the wood about, peered through the dark- 
ness, searching the open space where he had parted 
from Miller. 

His snow-shoes were gone. 


296 


CHAPTER XV 


A NEW CAMP 

The disappearance of the snow-shoes, instead of 
proving to Ross that he had been hoaxed, at first, 
only deepened his bewilderment. Finally, the 
idea found lodgment in his brain that MilleFs 
partner had wandered off in the storm delirious, 
and Miller, having found him gone, had followed, 
forgetting Ross. The boy was too confused to 
weigh the probabilities of such forgetfulness, es- 
pecially in view of the missing snow-shoes. There- 
fore, the moment the idea occurred to him he acted 
on it, hurrying out into the storm with the inten- 
tion of going to Miller^s assistance. 

But, without snow-shoes, he found himself help- 
less. He had not gone a dozen yards from the 
door before he sank half-way to his waist in the 
snow. Scrambling hastily back again, he ran 
around the cabin where the snow was not so deep, 
and struggled up the mountainside. 

“ Miller ! ” he shouted desperately. “ Miller, 
where are you ? 

Here and there among the trees he plunged 
297 


ROSS GRANT 


frantically until the fear that he could not find his 
way to the shack drove him back. 

He filled the stove with wood, snuffed the candle 
mechanically, and looked about him. Then for the 
first time he realized that there was but one bunk. 

“ If two men lived here, there would be two 
bunks,^’ he said slowly ; and then came the con- 
viction that Miller had decoyed him here and de- 
serted him, taking the snow-shoes along. But 
Rosses brain was too numb to pursue the thought. 
Exhausted by his long tramp and by his fruitless 
battle with the snow, he filled the stove with 
chunks, closed the draughts, and, without stopping 
to blow out the candle, rolled into the bunk, and 
was asleep before he had pulled all the blankets 
over him. 

When he awoke, the shack was filled with a 
light, which, although exceedingly dim, was un- 
mistakably daylight. Outside, the snow was piled 
to the top of the window. The candle was burned 
out and the fire low. Ross crawled out stiffly, 
every muscle aching and sore. Filling the stove, 
he looked at his watch. Twelve o’clock ! He had 
slept away the morning. 

Outside the blizzard raged in unabated fury, but 
so sheltered was the shack by scrub hemlocks and 
banks of snow roof-high, that but little wind found 
its way through the mud-chinked log walls. 

298 


TENDERFOOT 


Standing over the fire, Ross looked at the dark 
outlines of the one bunk, and considered his situa- 
tion. His heart sank when he thought of the 
miles which Miller and he had put between them- 
selves and Meadow Creek Valley. 

And who was Miller? 

Ross's suspicions, of course, had fastened to the 
McKenzies. But why had they considered it neces- 
sary to have him marooned so far from Meadow 
Creek ? How did they know that the dynamite 
had been found ? When they left Meadow 
Creek 

Oh ! " cried Ross aloud at this point. He 
brought the stove poker down vigorously on top 
of the stove. That blast under Soapweed Ledge I 
I wanted 'em to hear it — guess they didn't fail ! " 
Ruefully he turned from the stove. He was cer- 
tainly paying for his little triumph. 

But who was Miller ? 

The lack of wood in the cabin soon turned his 
attention from the answer to the necessity for im- 
mediate action. He found a large wooden snow- 
shovel behind the stove ; and, opening the door 
cautiously in order to prevent a mass of snow from 
following it, he cleared away a space in front of the 
door and the two windows, and shoveled his way 
to the wood-pile. 

It was not until he was struggling around the 
299 


ROSS GRANT 


corner of the shack with an armful of wood that 
he realized that his weakness and tremors were due 
not only to anxiety, but to hunger ; and with that 
realization came a fear which nearly induced 
another panic. Was there food in the cabin ? So 
great had been his absorption that he had not no- 
ticed the contents of the shack beyond those things 
which he had required for immediate use. 

Throwing the armful of wood down beside the 
stove, he proceeded to make a hurried search, the 
results of which quieted his fears. The cabin was 
as well stocked with provisions as Weimer^s. A 
portion of these supplies, the canned milk, vegeta- 
bles, and fruits, he found in boxes beneath the 
bunk. Sacks of flour and meal were suspended 
from the roof logs to protect them from the 
“ pack " rats. Having investigated these provi- 
sions, Ross opened a second door at the back of the 
shack, supposing it led out-of-doors. But he was 
agreeably surprised to find it led to a little lean-to 
of logs, where were suspended a large ham, strips 
of bacon, jerked meat, and quantities of fresh ven- 
ison all frozen. The door protected these from the 
heat inside the shack, while the logs, unchinked, 
gave protection from timber wolves and coyotes, 
but not from the snow, which had sifted in over 
everything. 

Ross at once set about getting breakfast. He 
300 


TENDERFOOT 


found every necessary cooking utensil at hand. 
The cabin was — as such cabins go — completely 
furnished and, it appeared, must have been in- 
habited not long ago by a stout man ; for in a box 
at the head of the bunk he found some clothing 
much too large for him or for the man who had 
brought him there. 

But,” he thought, as he sat down to venison 
steak and flapjacks, whoever owns the cabin. 
Miller must have gone from here to Meadow 
Creek, because there was a fire here last night 
when I came in ; and it was a fire fixed to keep 
some hours, too.” 

As he finished eating, his eyes fell on the game 
pouch still bulging beside the door. He had not 
looked inside. With a piece of steak balanced on 
his fork he crossed the floor. Then : 

** Books I ” he cried aloud. My books ! ” 

The fork fell from his hand. He dropped to 
his knees and emptied the pouch. Besides the 
appliances which he had given to Miller to carry 
there were all his books, the medical text-books 
which he had left in the emergency chest in 
Weimer's shack. He could scarcely believe his 
eyes. He sat back on his heels, and stared. 

'' Weston ! ” he finally shouted. Miller is 
Weston ! ” 

Suddenly rising, his eyes narrowed and his lips 
301 


ROSS GRANT 


compressed, he kicked the game pouch across the 
floor in a gust of anger caused by an illumination 
of certain circumstances which explained the 
events of the previous day. 

“ I^m slow,^^ he muttered between clinched 
teeth. Any one can get the better of me.” 

He recalled Weston’s imitation of different 
people the night he and Waymart had come to 
Weimer’s together and Sandy’s displeasure at the 
exhibition. Sitting down in an armchair beside 
the table — the only chair in the shack — he followed 
his chain of evidence link by link. The conversa- 
tion which he had overheard between Waymart 
and Sandy the night of the latter’s return from 
Cody was fully explained — the some one whose 
assistance they might need in Meadow Creek 
Valley, but who would not come unless some one 
else had left. 

Weston would not come with Leslie there for 
fear he’d be recognized,” thought Ross. There- 
fore, Sandy took steps to remove Leslie and — yes 
— in spite of the mess I made of it, I blocked the 
game I ” 

Then, despite his anxiety, Ross grinned. Of 
course the McKenzies had not expected Leslie to 
return any more than they had expected the 
dynamite to be found. But after hearing his 
signal of discovery they had sent Weston, the 
302 


TENDERFOOT 


skilful impersonator, to maroon him here — 
where ? Ross dropped forward his head on the 
table and groaned. 

“ They brought me here to get rid of me entirely/* 
he finished ; “ and I came voluntarily ! ** 

Presently he picked up the pouch, intending to 
hang it on a nail in the logs beside the door. It 
was not quite empty ; and, lifting the flap he 
looked in. At the bottom lay a few wads of news- 
paper. Ross concluded that the pouch had been 
stuffed with these when Weston came to Weimer’s. 
Then, when he went back after the books, he had 
thrown out the paper, the presence of which had 
prevented his companion from noticing much 
difference in the pouch after the books were put 
into it. Ross picked up one of the pieces, and 
glanced at it listlessly. It was a page of the Cody 
“ Gazette.** He dropped it back into the pouch. 

“ I wonder what he told Uncle Jake and Leslie 
when he got the books,** thought Ross, hanging 
up the bag. 

Leslie was the only comfort the situation held 
for him, and this merely came from the knowledge 
that Weimer was not alone. For, of course, Weston 
having seen the boy in Meadow Creek would return 
and block the work somehow, probably steal the 
dynamite again, and convey it farther than the 
tool house. 


303 


ROSS GRANT 


Here Ross started up in a sort of frenzy, and, 
putting on his top-coat and cap, rushed out-of-doors. 
He would find a way out. There must be a way, 
for Miller had gone back — Ross felt sure he had 
returned — and if Miller had he could I He would 
save the claims yet. The first plunge into the 
snow, waist-deep now, with the whip-lash of the 
blizzard in his face, brought him to his senses. 

‘‘ This is folly, he thought as he dropped once 
more into the chair beside the table, when I have 
no idea where I am.^’ 

But, even if he did know, his snow-shoes were 
gone ; and without them he could not safely 
venture — nor with them, either, he decided, re- 
calling with a sick shudder the snow-filled ravines 
against which Miller had warned him — Miller, 
indeed I 

His bitterness came back with a rush. After all 
he had done for Weston this was the final reward. 
Weston had shaved his beard, recolored his hair 
and the fringe of whiskers left beneath his chin, 
covered his deep brown eyes with goggles, and 
brought his benefactor of Dry Creek here to spend 
months in this deadly loneliness I That was the 
thanks he gave Doc Tenderfoot for saving his 
life. 

That night the storm ceased and a warm wind 
arose. The next morning Ross again shoveled 
304 


TENDERFOOT 


out the doorway, window, and wood-pile. The sky 
was clear, but the sun did not swing over the 
towering peak which rose almost perpendicular, 
opposite the cabin, until ten o^clock. But, when 
it did show its face, it looked down on a bewil- 
dering mass of snow. Ross gazed longingly down 
the canon, which wound like a serpent between 
the overhanging mountains. Down there not 
half a mile away a ledge ran diagonally across 
the face of a cliff ; and Ross felt impelled to go 
to the foot of that cliff, and find out whether or 
not the rope still dangled from its summit. But 
well he knew that even so short a journey would 
be impossible without the aid of snow-shoes. 
However, if the warm wind continued and the 
sky remained unclouded, perhaps in a day or 
two there would be a crust on the snow of suffi- 
cient strength to bear his weight. Then he would 
investigate. 

Meanwhile he tried to force himself calmly to 
the business of living and planning. He was 
there. So far as he could see there was no escape. 
He would make the best and the most of the 
months of his banishment. When he arrived at 
this conclusion, he found himself relenting a 
trifle toward Weston on account of the books. It 

: had been no light load to pack across the moun- 

I tains on a tramp which had lasted many hours. 

i 305 


ROSS GRANT 


** Perhaps Weston has a piece of heart, after all,^^ 
Ross mused the following morning, but so thor- 
oughly is he under Sandy^s control that he dare 
not show itT 

Before him on the table lay PiersoPs His- 
tology,^’ although he was totally unable to focus 
his scattered thoughts on the contents. He was 
anxiously watching the weather. The warm 
wind had continued, but the sky was lowering. 
Another storm was brewing. Finally Ross left 
Piersol and going to the door, looked out anx- 
iously over the canon. 

** The snow is settling finely,” he decided, “ and 
if the cold comes before the storm the crust will 
hold me up.” 

He went back to the armchair and began drum- 
ming nervously on the arms. He wondered how 
it had chanced to be packed so far over the 
narrow trails. A chair, a store chair,” that is, 
was an uncommon sight among the mountains. 
From which point had it been brought, Cody or 
Red Lodge ? The latter, he knew, was more than 
one hundred miles from the Shoshones, while 
Cody was but eighty. 

However, nearness depended not so much on 
miles as on accessibility, and for the thousandth 
time Ross wondered where he was. 

He could not reason from the memorv of the 
306 


TENDERFOOT 


tortuous windings of that stormy afternoon^s 
journey, with no view of the sun's face to guide 
him ; but his strong impression was that he was 
many miles northwest of Meadow Creek, with at 
least three chains of peaks between him and 
Weimer. 

Then he fell to wondering again about the 
shack. Did it belong to one of the McKenzie 
relatives? Who had given it over to his use 
for the winter ? He suspected that, while the fur- 
nishings and the clothing had been left there by the 
owner, the McKenzies had planned for his winter’s 
residence, and had partially, at least, stocked his 
larder, as the owner would not be likely to desert 
such a supply of meat, especially the fresh venison. 
Perhaps the venison was due to Weston’s fore- 
thought. Ross liked to think that Weston had 
done all that he dared do for the comfort of 
“ Doc Tenderfoot.” 

He’s a bigger man,” mused Doc ” ; “ and yet 
he seems more than half afraid of Sandy. Wonder 
what the trouble is.” 

That night the wind changed, the temperature 
dropped, and the next morning snow began to 
fall, lightly, however. Again and again Ross 
went out for trial trips on the fast freezing crust, 
but not until afternoon did he venture on the 
journey to the cliff. 


307 


ROSS GRANT 


The shack stood among the trees on the moun- 
tainside about ten feet above the level of the 
canon. Taking with him a long pole with a 
sharpened end, which he found in the shack, 
Ross slid from tree to tree until he gained the 
level of the canon. Then, hugging the foot of 
the mountain closely, that he might judge of the 
lay of the land by the trees, and so avoid the 
dreaded creeks and gorges, he turned down the 
canon toward the cliff. 

It was difficult walking, the crust being smooth 
and slippery. Several times one foot broke 
through, and each time Rosses heart seemed to 
rise in his throat when he considered that he 
was walking on a body of snow deeper than he 
was high. The canon had no distinguishing fea- 
tures. It might have been any one of a dozen 
located among the Shoshones, and all of them 
unfamiliar to the young man lost in their midst. 
On either side, the mountains, dreary and lonely 
and lifeless, arose precipitately. It was windless 
in the canon, but on top of the mountains a white, 
cold cloud of snow played perpetually. 

But Ross's eyes were eagerly searching the 
mountain at the left for the cliff ; and presently 
he recognized it despite the curtain of snow drift- 
ing across its face. There it was, stretching up 
until his neck ached in the effort to scan the top, 
308 



THE SNOW HID IT FROM VIEW 





TENDERFOOT 


where in an unbroken line along the edge hung 
a great body of snow, the undisturbed accumula- 
tions of the last blizzard. The steep side of the 
cliff, however, was bare, and Ross failed to dis- 
cover a rope dangling over its surface. 

He thought he had not expected to see it there, 
and so could not account for the sinking of his 
heart when he found it gone. For a few moments 
he stood looking down the canon hemmed in by 
its great mountain barriers. He fully realized the 
fact that he was a prisoner within those barriers, 
perfectly helpless until released by the brief sum- 
mer. 

With bent head he turned his back to the cliflP 
and cautiously retraced his steps while a wildly 
whirling squall suddenly caught him in its 
clutches. He had gone but a short distance before 
a sound in the rear caused him to wheel about and 
listen sharply. Only a smother of snow, swirling 
up the canon, met his eyes and a blast of the rising 
wind his ears. Hesitating, he struggled back a 
few steps and turned his face up toward the cliff. 
The snow hid it from view. He stood listening 
again, and, presently, the sound, above him and a 
little in advance, again mingled with the roar of 
the wind. Ross broke into a run, panting through 
the storm, breaking through the crust, struggling 
to his feet and tumbling on again. It was cer 

309 


ROSS GRANT 


tainly the call of a human voice, although no 
words were distinguishable because of the noise of 
the wind. 

Ross, obsessed by one idea, raised his voice : 
** Miller — Weston ! ” he yelled frantically. I^m 
here — below here ! Where are you ? 

But the wind swooped down on him, seized his 
words and bore them down the canon. Then it 
suddenly died away, and again the snow fell 
quietly, mistily, and Ross, looking up, saw, as in a 
nightmare, a rope dangling across the face of the 
cliff. In bewildered joyousness he pressed his 
hand against his eyes and looked again. 

It's there ! " he cried, but it certainly wasn't 
ten minutes ago. That's the queerest — I know I 
saw straight before " 

He opened his lips to call again, but the call was 
checked by the discovery of a man half-way down 
the cliff, creeping along on what looked to be a 
thread of snow fastened diagonally across the dark 
surface of the rock, but which Ross at once recog- 
nized as the narrow ledge he himself had trod 
only three days before. Slowly the figure was 
progressing, its feet kicking away the snow lodged 
on the ledge, its hands clinging to the bare face of 
the cliff. Then, faintly into the lull of the storm 
a nervous voice fioated down to Ross from the 
thread-like path. 


310 


TENDERFOOT 


I'm almost down, I guess, Miller. Hope I can 
get to the cabin before another squall strikes us." 

Then, from the top of the cliff, the barely dis- 
tinguishable words behind the veil of falling 
snow, “ All right. Remember you'll find Doc not 
half a mile straight ahead. The cabin's on the 
right, as I've told ye. It's above a bunch of seven 
spruces. Ye won't need yer snow-shoes — crust'll 
hold down there." 

Ross waited to hear no more. ** Leslie I " he 
yelled joyously. Ho, Leslie ! I'm down here. 
Come on ! Hurray for that rope again ! " 

But even as the hurray ascended the side of the 
cliff, so did the rope. Snakily, jerkily, the knotted 
end traveled upward until it disappeared in the 
cloud of snow that hid the mountain tops. 

From this cloud came a faint and far-away 
voice : Good luck t' ye ! Tell Doc ye're in the 
same boat as he is. He'll savvy I " 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE INGRATITUDE OF WESTON 

The presence of Leslie without snow-shoes, the 
disappearance of the rope, and Weston^s voice 
caused Ross to “ savvy immediately in impotent 
anger and bitter disappointment. But not until 
the two boys had reached the cabin and Leslie was 
warming himself beside the hot stove, did he fully 
comprehend the trick that had been played on 
him. 

** Weston I he exclaimed stupidly in answer to 
Rosses explanation. ** Why, this isn^t the man you 
told about at Sagehen Roost — it’s the Miller that 
you went away with. I saw that Weston fellow, 
you know. They’re not the same I ” 

** It’s evident that when you’ve seen Weston 
you’ve seen any number of men that he cares to 
imitate. This Miller is Weston, the McKenzies’ 

cousin and the man you ” Here Ross checked 

himself, as Leslie had not yet connected the dark- 
haired Weston with the light-haired Oklahoma 
man of the same name. 

Finally, after supper, Leslie recovered from his 
bewilderment sufficiently to tell connectedly the 
312 


TENDERFOOT 


story of the days that had intervened between 
Rosses departure from Meadow Creek and his own. 

Begin at the beginning/' urged Ross finally, 
putting a pine chunk in the stove and snuffing the 
candle. 

He had seated the newcomer in the armchair 
beside the fire, while he sat on an overturned box 
in front of the stove door and within reach of a 
heap of wood. On the table at his elbow lay the 
gun which Steele had insisted on adding to his 
equipment the day he arrived in Meadow Creek 
and which he had not since touched. Leslie had 
brought it strapped across his shoulders and with 
it all the ammunition which Steele had provided. 
This was another proof of Weston's strangely curi- 
ous good will that continued to puzzle Ross. How 
the unsuspecting Leslie was prevailed on to bring 
the limited arsenal was a part of the story which 
Ross was demanding. While the storm raged 
outside and the dim candle-light dickered and 
cast long uncanny shadows within, and the pine 
chunk fiamed and cracked cheerily filling the 
room with a warmth grateful to the chilled narra- 
tor, Leslie complied with the request to begin at 
the beginning." 

I’d no sooner seen your back, Ross, as you 
followed Miller out of the door, than I had an 
awfully uncomfortable feeling of responsibility. 

313 


ROSS GRANT 


By the time the storm had swallowed you two up, 
the whole outfit there at Weimer’s was sitting 
hard on my shoulders. We watched you out of 
sight, Uncle Jake and I, and then we went back 
into the cabin and, Ross, if that cabin seems to 

Uncle Jake now as — well — as — when you left ” 

Leslie paused and stared at the candle. Ross drew 
his seat nearer the stove and cleared his throat. 

Uncle Jake has stayed there a lot in the winter 
all alone, you must remember. He was telling 

me about it not long ago, how the 

Above the cabin, through the roaring and sough- 
ing of the wind among the spruce, came the long 
drawn yelling, harassed, pitiful cry of a coyote. 
From the canon the cry was answered. Again 
and again the two human-like voices wailed de- 
spairingly at each other while the boys involunta- 
rily drew nearer together and Ross laid a caressing 
hand on the gun and finished his speech : 

‘^That^s exactly what Uncle Jake told me — how 
the coyotes and wolves prowled around, and he 
didn^t mind them nor the loneliness at all.” 

Leslie nodded. I noticed that he didn^t seem 
to mind your being away in the same way I did. 
He just took to his pipe and his bunk and seemed 
settled for a rest until you got back again. That 
didn’t add any to my restfulness, I can tell you, 
for what could I do up in the tunnel without him ? 

314 


TENDERFOOT 

I rustled around a bit trying to decide what to do 
when the door opened and there was Miller again, 
or Weston rather. I was as surprised as they 
make ’em until he said : 

‘ Say, young feller, Doc he sent me back t’ 
round up a book on medicine that he may need. 
It’ll be layin’ round loose som’ers, maybe in that 
hair covered chist of hisn.’ ” 

Leslie went on to say that when he had opened 
Ross’s emergency chest Weston professed to have 
forgotten the name of the book he had been directed 
to fetch, and, consequently, had taken all the 
books, stuffing them carelessly into his game pouch. 
Then the storm had again swallowed him up. 

After he went away,” said Leslie, I got to 
thinking pretty strongly about the dynamite. If 
it was so easy for one man to get into the valley 
from the land only knew where, why couldn’t the 
McKenzies make their way back and spirit the 
dynamite off for good and all ? We’d gone and 
touched off that charge under Soapweed Ledge to 
make ’em understand that we had it again, you 
know.” 

'' Yes, I know ! ” affirmed Ross grimly. '' Geese 
that we were ! ” 

‘‘ Well, those sticks got on my nerves, and I 
made up my mind to fasten them up if such a 
thing were possible. So I put on my snow-shoes 

315 


ROSS GRANT 


and began to rattle around in the storm to see 
what I could do. I thought no one could come up 
into the tool house from under because of the mass 
of snow all around, and because the dynamite box 
was so heavy with all of your and our and the 
McKenzies^ sticks in it that it held the floor boards 
down with a vengeance. But I wasn’t taking any 
chances after seeing what our ‘ friends the enemy ’ 
were capable of doing, so I got all the spike nails 
that Weimer had and nailed down the floor. Then 
I plowed through the storm up to Wilson’s shack, 
shoveled my way in, collected all the tools that 
could be used to pry or hammer with and brought 
’em back to our tool house. And with them, Ross, 
I brought a great padlock and chain that I rec- 
ollected seeing up there rusty and unused. I oiled 
it and put a bar across the tool-house door and 
padlocked it. And if I do say it, it would cost a 
man some time and strength and racket to get into 
that shack. It would also take some tools, and 
there’s none in the valley except what are behind 
that locked door, for before night came I had 
raided the McKenzie cabin and brought over all 
their tools. Then,” continued Leslie, I went to 
sleep feeling some better.” 

** I’ll bet you,” cried Ross eagerly, “ that it’s 
because you fastened up the dynamite that you’re 
here I I do believe that when Weston went back 
316 


TENDERFOOT 


it would have been easier to cache that if he could 
have got it than to have brought you here/^ 

** I don^t know, Ross/^ Leslie gave a short laugh. 

It was easy enough to get me here, as easy as to 
get you. I — but you want the story as it comes.” 

Every word of it. Go on. The next day ” 

The next day, Leslie continued, so furious a 
blizzard was raging that he didnT work in the 
tunnel but spent the time keeping open the trails 
to the dump, the wood-pile and the spring. But 
the second day, the sky having cleared, he tried 
his best to get Weimer to work. 

Ich vill vork mit Doc,” was Uncle Jake^s dec- 
laration of independence, ** mit you, nein I ” 

“ You can imagine, Ross, how much work I did 
alone, not used to going ahead with the blasting. 
When I came down at noon the old fellow had 
dished up a capital dinner. He washed the 
dishes, but not one step would he budge to the 
tunnel. Said that you were likely to drop in any 
time that day and he^d stay in and watch for you. 
Said it would be work enough for him to do to 
fill you up after your long tramp through the 
snow ! He simply boiled over with ready excuses. 
When I went up to the tunnel I left him with his 
goggles on, swinging open the door about once in 
two minutes for a look over on Soapweed Ledge. 
You know it was clear that day and ” 

317 


ROSS GRANT 


Here Leslie suddenly paused and sat up with a 
jerk. He gripped the arms of the chair and gave 
a startled exclamation. 

See here, Ross, that clearness business has re- 
minded me of something that I noticed in the 
morning, and, because I thought it couldn^t be 
true, I paid but little attention. But now I know 
— well, this is what it was : when I reached the 
dump I glanced across the valley at the McKenzie 
shack. It seemed completely buried in snow ex- 
cept the roof and the chimney stovepipe, and at 
first I imagined that I saw heat coming out of that 
stovepipe ! You know how, after a hot fire, the 
heat will crinkle the air above a chimney and no 
smoke in sight ? 

“ That^s so ! ” exclaimed Ross. And you 
think 

“ At the time I thought it was a mere notion of 
mine, but now I believe I saw correctly, and that 
Weston was there waiting to dispose of my case.^’ 
That’s the idea,” agreed Ross excitedly. ‘‘ There 
all the time after he left me, probably. He had 
likely got him a hot breakfast before you were up 
and then let the fire die.” 

Leslie nodded. “Same as I did when I was 
hiding down in Miners’ Camp. But, anyway, I 
didn’t investigate and forgot all about that chim- 
ney until this minute.” 

318 


TENDERFOOT 


Here Leslie broke off to ask abruptly, Another 
thing, Ross, right here before I forget. The day 
you left, you remember Uncle Jake was sick and 
you went down to get dinner and left me in the 
tunnel ? ” 

Yes.” 

“ Well, only a few minutes after you left I looked 
out and you, as I supposed then, stood in the mouth 
of the tunnel ” 

“ Nope, Twas Weston,” interrupted Ross. He 
said he went up there first. He came to the shack 
from that direction.” 

Then he got a squint at the work and the dyna- 
mite and your assistant right then I I thought it 
was queer I didnT get an answer when I yelled to 
know if you had dinner ready. But just as I 
spoke, the figure took a sneak, and I supposed you 
had just stopped a bit to look things over.” 

Weston was attending to that, evidently,” re- 
torted Ross promptly. But now let^s see — you Ve 
brought the happenings up to to-day, havenT 
you ? ” 

** Not quite,” Leslie answered. I’ll be there in 
a minute, though. Yesterday I got as uneasy as 
Weimer over your not getting back, and Miller, or 
Weston, I mean, not coming as he promised. I 
confess I was in a blue funk by afternoon, and I 
saw things were shaping for another storm. I went 

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ROSS GRANT 


slipping and sliding out beside the dump a dozen 
times where I could look over to Soapweed Ledge 
while Uncle Jake tramped around outside the 
shack continually watching for you.'^ 

“ Poor Uncle Jake ! muttered Ross stirring un- 
easily. 

Well, that brings me to to-day, Leslie began 
after a pause. I was down beside the dump look- 
ing for you about eleven o^clock this morning when 
I saw him coming over the Ledge — Weston, I mean. 
Same goggles, same cap drawn down over his ears, 
same outfit except the game pouch. I noticed as 
soon as he came near that the pouch was gone. 
Tell you what, Ross, I made tracks down the trail, 
got my snow-shoes on and went to meet him. I 
would have hurried to meet a Hottentot ! Uncle 
Jake stayed behind jabbering in German, and 
fairly dancing up and down in his excitement be- 
cause you had not come with Weston.’’ 

Ross, his elbows on his knees and his chin in his 
palms, staring at Leslie, saw in a flash the latter as 
he had appeared at Sagehen Roost, overbearing 
and dictatorial. Then he saw him running across 
the lonely valley of Meadow Creek eager to meet 
any one on a fraternal footing. 

** Weston must have left his shack and made a 
long trip behind it up the mountain and around 
over the summit to have come in on the Ledge ; 

320 


TENDERFOOT 


don^t you think so?’^ asked Ross. “ He probably 
didn’t want to run any risk of being seen.” 

Leslie assented and went on with his story. He 
had gone to meet Weston with a demand as to 
Ross’s whereabouts and return. 

‘‘ Don’t ye worry none about Doc,” Weston de- 
clared heartily. “ He’s fixin’ things fine over our 
way. Doc’s all right I ” 

So he is,” Leslie agreed, and for that reason 
we want him right here. Uncle Jake and 1 1 ” 

Wall,” Weston drawled good-naturedly, he 
says the same about you even t’ wantin’ ye where 
he is now for a day.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” Leslie asked. 

The two had been walking back toward the 
shack and the frantic Weimer, and Weston did not 
explain until he had assured Uncle Jake of Ross’s 
safety and health, and was seated beside the stove. 

“ Not once while he was there,” Leslie told Ross, 
not even when he was eating dinner, did he take 
off his cap — merely pushed it back a little. Uncle 
Jake urged him to shed it, but he just grinned and 
said he had a bald spot on the top of his head, and 
had got into the habit of wearing his cap all the 
time to keep that spot warm. Said he guessed he 
wouldn’t ^ bust into that habit now.’ I thought 
he was an odd Dick to get into such a habit, and 
with a fur cap, too, but it was all so plausible, Ross, 
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ROSS GRANT 


everything he said was said with such an air of 
truth, that I didn’t once suspect.” 

“ No more did I,” confessed Ross. 

And then, of course, I was awfully interested 
in what he had to tell, and ask me to do. He told 
a clever lie, Ross. He said that you had brought 
down an elk with his gun and wanted me to come 
back with him and the sled you had made to help 
the McKenzies haul supplies, and help pack the ven- 
ison over the mountains for our winter meat. It was 
all the more clever because I knew that meat was 
all we needed to make our winter’s supplies good. 
The story hit Uncle Jake in the right spot, too. He 
hurried up dinner for us to be gone before the big 
snow came. Weston thought we could reach his 
cabin that night and make it back again to-morrow 
morning with the elk meat. He said it would be a 
pretty good pull for the three of us, but as there was 
a good crust we could make it with that sled. Why, 
Doc, there wasn’t a suspicion of deceit in his man- 
ner. He said you had fixed his pard up all right 
and would leave some stuff for him, and so didn’t 
need to stay any longer. So I went up to the tool 

house and got the sled out and we started ” 

The gun,” interrupted Ross. Did you think 
of the gun ? ” 

“ Not much I didn’t ! That was Weston. Just 
as we were starting oflf he turned back and said ; 

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TENDERFOOT 


* See here, young feller. Doc said as how ye 
was t' bring his gun along and mebby he could 
bring down a mountain sheep as we come back. 
They is a lot of them animals over with us.^ ” 

So the two had turned back and Leslie strapped 
Rosses gun across his shoulders. He carried the 
ammunition. Weston insisted on taking all of it 
along as he and his partner had run short, and 
Ross had promised them a share of his I Then 
they had started out, and, screened by the veil of 
gently falling snow, entered on the same tortuous, 
winding, upward trail that Ross and Weston had 
taken a few days previously. 

‘‘ And all the way,^^ Leslie continued, whenever 
the trail let us walk together, he was telling me a 
long yarn about the day you and he had spent 
chasing that elk whose meat we were going after. 
I listened, Ross, with my mouth opened half the 
time, and wished a dozen times, if I did once, that 
I had been with you. 

Well, as the afternoon passed, the storm be- 
came heavier, and part of the way we couldn’t see 
a dozen feet before us, and finally I think Weston 
himself was uncertain of our way although he 
said he wasn’t. It must have been about four 
o’clock when we came to the head of the ledge. 
Weston searched and groped along until he came 
to a tree where a rope was already tied. 

323 


ROSS GRANT 


“ * It^s the one I used fer Doc and me/ ” he ex- 
plained and slung it over the cliff. 

He had been hauling the sled along, while all I 
had to carry was the gun and ammunition. Now 
he said that I had better leave my snow-shoes on top 
of the cliff and tie the end of the rope around my 
waist and he would let me down to the ledge. 
That I was to kick clear of snow and then go up 
the canon and get you to come down and help 
heave the sled over and get it down to the canon. 
He said you would know better than I how to do 
that. He kept giving me directions about where 
to find the cabin, for the snow had thickened un- 
til we couldn’t see the ledge, to say nothing of the 
canon. You see, Ross, I’ll confess I was too nerv- 
ous about going over into space attached to that 
rope to think that his proceeding was queer. I 
just didn’t question a thing, but shut my eyes and 
went over. It didn’t occur to me to wonder why 
my snow-shoes, instead of that gun, weren’t tied 
on my shoulders. Well, I struck the ledge and 
untied the rope and felt my way along that ticklish 
shelf until the squall lifted and then — you know 
the rest. If I live to be a hundred I’ll never for- 
get how I felt when that rope was drawn up and 
he yelled down that I was to tell you I was in the 
same boat that you were ! ” 

It was late and Leslie was too tired to talk 

334 


TENDERFOOT 


longer. Ross gave him the bunk and, waiting 
only long enough to fill the stove with wood, close 
the draughts and blow out the candles, wrapped 
up in a blanket and lay down beside the stove, his 
coat for a pillow. He did not fall asleep at once, 
but lay staring up at the flicker of firelight danc- 
ing about on the mud-chinked logs overhead. 

After all his planning and working, he thought, 
his mission in the mountains was doomed to fail- 
ure. The claims would pass into the McKenzies' 
hands, and, besides, he would have missed one 
year of the preparation for the work he had chosen. 
He rolled over and half groaned. 

“ Awake, Ross ? " came from the bunk. I'm 
so tired I haven't dropped off yet and, besides — 
say, Ross, here I am and there's dad waiting for 
me to turn up with that missing five hundred — 
and then your claims — we're not exactly in luck, 
are we ? I feel as though I'd like to get my hands 
on that Weston-Miller fellow's throat." 

“ There's one thing I can do, though — study," 
muttered Ross. “ That I've got to hold my- 
self to." 

Conversation languished then, and both boys 
fell asleep, Ross’s last thought being of Weimer 
watching for their return in the lonely valley of 
Meadow Creek. 

By daylight the following morning the two were 

325 


ROSS GRANT 


up, full of plans for living and doing during the 
long months of their imprisonment. 

** There are some nails, but no hammer,” said 
Ross. “ But we can drive 'em with a stick of 
wood and fix up another bunk out of these two 
boxes. They're the longest, and I think they'll fill 
the bill for my five feet ten. Then we'll divide 
the straw and the blankets, and by keeping up the 
fire all night, I guess we won’t freeze to death.'' 

On the floor in the corner back of the stove they 
built the bunk. There were not nails enough nor 
were the boxes strong enough to allow of making 
a substantial bunk such as the owner of the shack 
had built against the side logs. 

Until the bunk was completed, Leslie, while 
working docilely enough under the older boy's 
direction, regarded the more comfortable bunk as 
his permanent possession. He had never been 
taught to be unselfish. He had from his moth- 
erless childhood demanded what he wished and 
received it until the question arose of his contin- 
ued attendance in school. There he had taken 
the course he wished and was now paying for it 
dearly. It was not until he was dividing the straw 
in his bunk and had come across Ross's watch 
and pocketbook that the idea smote him hard that 
the other had vacated the easier bunk in a word- 
less generosity that he, Leslie, had never practiced, 


TENDERFOOT 

and that he had not even thanked the bunk’s 
former occupant. 

^*See here, Ross,’’ he began brusquely, '‘you 
needn’t think that you’re going to rest your old 
bones in the new bunk all the time, for you ain’t I 
I shall try it myself half the time.” 

" Week and week about, then,” Ross agreed. 
"And this brings us up against a calendar. I 
brought my watch, thank fortune ! But what 
about a calendar ? I want to be sure that I know 
when the 4th of July gets here, for Steele says 
you’d never know it except by the calendar, there’s 
so much snow.” 

" Snow ! ” groaned Leslie. " Snow ! There’s 
never a time when there isn’t snow in these moun- 
tains, it seems. Well, I know what day to-morrow 
is, and — have you a pencil?” 

Ross slapped the breast pocket of his slicker. 
" Yep, a long one. And there’s one in the pockets 
of the trousers you’ll find in that box,” nodding 
toward the repository of the shack owner’s cloth- 
ing. " Guess we will keep a record of the days up 
on the side logs. I know how many in each 
month when I say that old jingle, ' Thirty days 
hath September,’ etc.” 

But the need of a calendar was not so pressing 
as the need of wood. The few days that Ross had 
spent in the shack had caused an alarming shrink- 
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ROSS GRANT 


age in the pile of chunks already cut ; and Ross, 
commencing to shovel his way to the nearest pine 
tree, now ran across a number of logs which had 
been snaked down the mountainside before the 
snow came, and lay ready for the axe and saw. 

“ I guess if Aunt Anne were here, she’d not com- 
plain that I took no exercise,” he muttered grimly, 
shouldering a short cross cut saw. 

While he sawed Leslie got dinner. After din- 
ner Leslie took his turn at the saw and axe while 
Ross considered the matter of the calendar. Look- 
ing about the shack, his glance fell on Weston’s 
game pouch. He had hung it on a peg driven be- 
tween two side logs and had forgotten it. 

“ The very thing ! ” he exclaimed aloud. We 
can mark the days on the margin of the old news- 
papers that are in the bottom of that pouch.” 

Taking the bag down he dumped the crushed 
papers out on the table, and sitting down, began to 
smooth them out, glancing over the contents idly. 
He found nothing which interested him until he 
reached the last wad. When he spread this out, 
he found, stuck to the newspaper by candle-drip- 
pings, a scrap of coarse note paper which at 
once riveted his attention. It contained only the 
latter part of one sentence and the first part of 
another. 

<< come and help us out, and no fooling 

328 


TENDERFOOT 


about it, either. If you back out I will turn you 

over to old man Quinn 

Over and over Ross read these words. They 
were few and short, but to him now they were the 
intelligible index to a whole volume. The scrap 
was stuck to a Gazette bearing a date which was 
just previous to Weston^s appearance in Meadow 
Creek. There was no name to show that Sandy 
had written the letter, but Ross knew Weston had 
escaped from Oklahoma. No doubt Sandy pos- 
sessed the knowledge that compelled his obedience. 

Ross drew a long breath. Strange what parts 
of two sentences may tell a fellow ! 

‘‘ Tell a fellow what ? demanded Leslie’s curious 
voice at his elbow. A hand came over his shoul- 
der and pinned the paper down to the table while 
Leslie read the contents aloud. 

‘ Old man Quinn,’ ” he finished excitedly. 
Why, that is my father, but — Lon Weston — say, 
what does that mean, Ross ? ” 


329 


CHAPTER XVII 


A RANDOM SHOT 

For an instant Ross made no reply. He sat 
. with his back to the door and had not heard Leslie 
enter. Turning slowly he looked up with puzzled 
eyes. 

“ Less, there^s something that IVe not told you 
before — because — I guess because I’ve thought it 
wasn’t fair to tell. But after Weston has brought 
us away off here and dumped us in this wilderness 
— even if he has done it out of fear of Sandy — well, 
it seems to me that about now he has forfeited all 
right to my silence.” 

Leslie fell back in astonishment, the scraps of 
the letter still in his hand. Doc, are you getting 
luny ? What are you talking about ? ” 

Ross laughed ruefully. ^'Just thinking out 
loud, that’s all. Now I’ll get right down to business 
about Weston. You said you knew a fellow in 
Oklahoma by his name — Lon Weston.” 

Leslie pursed his lips incredulously. Yes, but 
as I said, our Lon Weston had light hair and 
330 


TENDERFOOT 


didn^t murder the King's English like this man, 
and lie hadn't a husky voice." 

“ Just so I " cried Ross triumphantly. Neither 
does this Lon Weston murder the English language 
when he is talking like himself, nor has he a husky 
voice naturally nor has he dark hair ! It's colored 
dark — near the roots, as I found out, it's light." 

“ Jiminy crickstones ! " cried Leslie excitedly. 

If that's true, it's one on me ! Come to think of 
it, Weston was forever imitating folks, but I never 
have seen him in such a serious imitation as this. 
How do you know all about him, anyway ? " 

From this Ross proceeded to tell what he knew 
except Weston's connection with the note laid 
under the electric bulb in the bedroom of The 
Irma." That much he felt himself pledged not to 
relate, but its omission, really, in no way detracted 
from the proof of Weston's identity. Further- 
more, Ross, concerned only with that identity, 
began his recital with Sheepy's talk about Weston 
forgetting the photograph which had revealed the 
injured man's name. 

You can see," Ross concluded, “ by putting 
together all the evidence, that he is the fourth 
man your father is after, and that Sandy has come 
it over him completely, knowing that he is the 
fourth. The more I think of it the more I'm 
convinced of Sandy's power. Sandy holds this 

331 


ROSS GRANT 


cudgel over his head and makes him do the dirty 
work. But, no matter how big the cudgel is, he 
had no business to play this low-down trick on us.” 

Wait till we get out of here ! ” declared Leslie 
wrathfully, “ and I’ll make him pay for his trick I ” 
Suddenly his face lighted. Ross, see here ! Dad 
has been hunting for that fourth man for two 
years, and if I can go to him and tell him who it 
is and set him on the right track, well — I’ll stand 
in better with dad, that’s all ! The five hundred 
that I can’t begin to earn until next summer won’t 
be in it beside that information ! ” 

Then, as suddenly as it had come, the light died 
out of the boy’s face. He sat down on the table 
and rubbed his forehead in perplexity. 

“ But, Ross, there’s another side to this. For 
me to do that would knock things endwise with 
Sue.” 

Sue,” repeated Ross, who is Sue ? ” 

I’ve got a sister,” explained Leslie. She’s 
four or five years older. She keeps house for us. 
She’s an awfully good girl. Sue is, although,” 
turning his head shamefacedly away, she’d be 
surprised to hear me say so, for we, dad and I, 
have made her a lot of trouble. Dad’s as up and 
down with her as with me and I — say, Ross, I’ve 
been a nuisance at home ! ” 

Leslie choked. He looked slowly around the 
332 


TENDERFOOT 


cramped, dirty, ill-lighted room, so unlike the 
neat, pleasant home presided over by Sue, and 
swallowed hard. Ross industriously made notches 
in the edge of the table with his pocket-knife. 

Finally Leslie, clearing his throat, continued, 
I guess all this serves me about right. I know 
I ought to be kicked — and I am being — in a way. 
Well, it’s always been up to Sue to put up with us 
both, and she has. And then three years ago Lon 
Weston came. You see, Ross, dad is a sheep 
owner, and North Bend is on the edge of the range 
between sheep and cattle, and that always means 
war. About three miles away is a cattle ranch, 
and Peck, the owner, and dad are always by the 
ears. It was at Peck’s that Lon was foreman, and 
he used to come over to North Bend to see my 
sister whenever dad would let ’im, but things were 
never very smooth for ’em. Of course, I didn’t 
see much of him because I was off at school most 
of the year. I was away when the cattlemen had 
their big round-up two years ago in the fall. 
After each had cut out his own bunch of cattle and 
shipped ’em, a lot of the boys went on a drunk 
and dad lost his sheep. Naturally he went up in 
the air at the loss and was at the throat of every 
cattle owner and cowboy for miles around. And, 
first thing, of course he came down on Sue about 
Lon’s coming to the house and forbid ’er to see 
333 


ROSS GRANT 


him again, not because he suspected Lon, but just 
because he was Peekes foreman and a cowboy. 

Well, Lon cleared out right off and Sue cried 
herself sick. She never said anything, but I’ve 
guessed that Lon never has written to 'er and I’m 
afraid she’s foolish enough,” tolerantly, to think 
a lot of him. 

But I never suspected that Lon was in the 
bunch that sent dad’s sheep over, and I know that 
no one else around the ranch suspects it, because 
of Lon’s coming to see Sue right along. Still — 
there were times when he was a pretty rough 
customer, and — it’s a mixed up mess, ain’t it, Ross, 
along with Sue ? ” 

Ross had been leaning forward on the table lis- 
tening eagerly. Two or three times he had started 
to interrupt, and had checked himself with diffi- 
culty. Now he burst out : 

I had forgotten the girl’s photo in Lon’s 
pocket, Leslie. I know now it’s Sue’s picture, be- 
cause it looks like you. It fell out of his pocket 
at Sagehen Roost, and both Hank and I saw it, and 
then, when you came, you puzzled Hank because 
he thought he had seen you before I ” 

“ The very idea ! ” exclaimed Leslie indignantly 
when Ross had told him about the name on the 
photograph. “ How dare he carry my sister’s 
picture around with him after doing dad such a 
334 


TENDERFOOT 


dirty trick. Oh, I have it in for him all right I I 
don’t wonder the McKenzies knew they had to get 
rid of me before they could make Lon come over 
to Meadow Creek ! I see now I I presume he 
thinks that dad has been on his track these two 
years. I wonder if Sandy and Waymart were 
with Peck at the same time Lon was ? ” 

For a long time the boys talked over the affair 
in all its bearings, and as the long lonely days 
passed, they recalled every incident that had oc- 
curred since they left Oklahoma and Pennsylvania. 
Their conversations mostly took place in the even- 
ing by the light of one dim candle, or in the 
darkness relieved only by the flicker of the fire- 
light, as candles were not plenty. It was at that 
dreary time between day and night with the wind 
and the coyotes howling outside that the home- 
sickness that they could fight successfully in day- 
light had its inning. 

But what if I were here alone I ” Ross ex- 
claimed periodically. 

His gratitude at having Leslie there softened his 
anger at Weston, although he knew that the bring- 
ing of Leslie had been no philanthropic move on 
Weston’s part. 

Soon, however, the boys settled to a routine of 
work, exercise and study planned by Ross and ac- 
quiesced in by Leslie, all, at first, save the study. 

335 


ROSS GRANT 


In that Ross began with no thought of aid from 
the other or partnership with him until one day 
when he sat with a book on anatomy before him 
industriously absorbing the pages. Presently, 
turning his book over on its face, he resolutely 
closed his eyes against the outer world, and his 
ears against Leslie's lively whistle, mentally re- 
viewing the facts he had been conning. Suddenly 
Leslie, who had been lying in the bunk, came over 
to the table and, picking up the text-book, lazily 
bade Ross think aloud. 

** It's so deadly lonely, Ross, with you poring 
over those dull books," complained Leslie, ‘‘ that 
I'd rather hear you recite than not to hear anything 
at all I " 

From this trifling beginning, a student partner- 
ship grew up. At first the task meant to Leslie 
only a form of passing the time away, of hearing a 
human voice instead of the crackle of the fire and 
the sough of the wind. Then, gradually, his in- 
terest in the subject of anatomy was awakened. 
He began to look at himself with a new interest. 

I say, Ross," he burst out one day when he 
was frying bacon, I never have thought of my- 
self before as being made up of parts that must 
work together smoothly — and I never considered 
how they must work and that some one or other 
must know just how they ought to work so that 

336 


TENDERFOOT 


he can put 'em together if they fall out of place. 
Now, about that femur, and ball and socket joint 
at the hip here " . 

Immediately Ross plunged into a lively descrip- 
tion which soon led both boys to the books for 
proof and illustration, and Leslie's interest grew. 
From being merely the holder of the book while 
Ross recited and explained what he had studied, 
Leslie, the ‘‘ hater " of studies, began to study also, 
at first, in a fitful way, and then more steadily as 
Ross proved himself an enthusiastic teacher. 

Neither, however, became so absorbed in his 
studies as to become reconciled to his enforced 
residence above the seven spruces. Day after day 
they ventured out and up and down the canon, or 
up the side of the mountain on the side of which 
their shack was located, but no discoveries re- 
sulted. The absence of snow-shoes made travel 
impossible except on top of a strong crust, and 
even then a realization of a constantly increasing 
danger resulted in making such trips shorter and 
shorter. The danger was this : blizzard succeeded 
blizzard until the willows, ten feet tall, which 
grew thickly in the canon, were completely con- 
cealed, also the scrub hemlocks and quaking asp 
on the mountainside. The tops of the bushes, 
lashed by the wind until they became finally snow 
covered, formed each a dangerous hollow under a 
337 


ROSS GRANT 


crust thinner and weaker than the surrounding 
surface. This painful discovery was made by Les- 
lie. 

One bright day, leaving Ross to cut off the 
branches of a tree that he had felled for fire- wood, 
Leslie took the gun and started down the canon on 
a tour of exploration. 

The crust is stout enough to hold up an ox. 
Doc,” he declared, bringing the butt of the gun 
down on it hard, and I’m going out to see what 
there is to see — and shoot.” 

Shoot ! ” echoed Ross, poising the axe in air. 

I’d like to see something shootable up here beside 
coyotes, and we never see them — only hear ’em ! ” 
and the axe descended with a thud. 

Leslie laughed, shouldered the gun and tramped 
briskly down the canon, while Ross wielded the 
axe and, whistling cheerfully, thought of the prog- 
ress he was making in his studies. 

Presently, he rested on his axe handle and 
chafed his cheeks and nose briskly with the shaggy 
mittens he had found in the box of clothing left in 
the shack. “ I don’t want any more frost bites in 
mine I ” he muttered. He had had several expe- 
riences of the kind that winter, the altitude being 
so great that he did not realize the intense cold 
until nose or cheek or ear had become frost nipped. 

He was resuming his axe when a faint sound 
338 


TENDERFOOT 


traveled up the canon on the wings of a slow south 
wind. Ross straightened himself and listened. 
Again came the wind and the sound. With the 
axe in his hand he slipped and slid down the 
mountainside until he stood in the canon below 
the seven spruce trees. There he paused long 
enough to distinguish in the sound the faint muf- 
fled cry, '' Ross ! '' and Help I 

Coming I yelled Ross frantically. Where 
are you ? 

He did not await a reply but, slipping unstead- 
ily along the icy crust, he hurried down the canon 
in the general direction of Leslie’s voice, yelling 
intermittently, Coming — here I am ! Where are 
you. Less? ” 

As he came to the cliff over which he had been 
lowered into the canon, he heard Leslie’s voice 
again, still curiously muffled, although evidently 
only a little way in advance. It seemed to rise 
from beneath the ground. 

Hold on, Ross. Don’t come fast. I’ve fallen 
through among the willows.” 

Cautiously Ross advanced toward the voice, test- 
ing the strength of the crust at every step until it 
gave under the stamping of his heel. Then he 
stopped and found himself looking down a section 
of shelving crust into a hole filled with loose snow, 
willow tops — and Leslie. 

339 


ROSS GRANT 


Great guns ! cried Ross. What are you 
doing in there? 

Leslie attempted to respond nonchalantly, but 
his face was nearly as white as the bed of snow he 
was occupying, and his teeth chattered with cold 
and fright. 

“ IVe been flopping around here for half an hour 
yelling,” he explained jerkily, and have only 
managed to sink deeper and break off more crust 
and more willow tops.” 

‘‘ Rub your nose and face the next thing you 
do,” advised Ross immediately, “ or youll be a 
mass of frost bite.” 

He rubbed his own nose meditatively. Then 
grasping the axe he cried cheerfully, “ Hold the 
fort a while longer down there. Less, and relief will 
arrive. See here ! I hadn’t finished the wood and 
I ran off with the axe. Now I’ll skiddoo and cut a 
pole and help you out. And don’t forget to rub 
your face ! ” 

Laboriously and fearfully — lest he meet with 
Leslie’s fate — Ross climbed the side of the moun- 
tain until he stood among the branches of a sturdy 
spruce, the depth of snow raising him to that 
height. Cutting and trimming a long limb, he 
dragged it back to the canon. Projecting one end 
over the hole he sat hard on the other. Then Les- 
lie. by jumping and seizing the projecting end, and 
340 


TENDERFOOT 


bracing against the sloping sheet of crust, climbed, 
breathless but relieved, to the surface of the snow. 

“ I tell you what, Ross,” he said emphatically as 
they made their way gingerly back to the shack, 
I've done all the research work I want to in this 
canon ! ” He shivered and slapped his hands 
smartly together. Without snow-shoes we are 
helpless here, and the McKenzies know it I ” 

To make snow-shoes without boards or small 
nails or a hammer was impossible to workmen of 
their inexperience. They broke up some boxes 
and put in all their spare time for days experi- 
menting, but to no purpose. 

Even if we did succeed. Less,” Ross comforted 
himself one day as he looked gloomily at their 
latest failure, we couldn't escape from here. We 
have no idea where we are, whether we are nearer 
Red Lodge or Cody or Timbuctoo. We would 
merely start out and leave a half-way comfortable 
certainty for a mighty ticklish uncertainty.” 

That's right,” agreed Leslie, “ and we couldn't 
pack enough food on our backs to last many days, 
nor can we tell when a storm is coming.” 

In fact, storms were the order of the day. By 
the middle of February immense masses of snow 
curled out over the cliffs on the side of the moun- 
tain opposite the shack waiting for the warm 
Chinooks of spring to send them hurtling down 

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ROSS GRANT 


into the canon. Fortunately, the mountain above 
the shack was lower than its neighbors, and the 
face, heavily wooded, sloped back more gently un- 
til it reached a great elevation. 

‘‘ The trees here prove that there have been no 
snowslides within the memory of this generation, 
at any rate,’^ Ross broke out one day as they were 
sawing the branches from a spruce on the moun- 
tainside above the shack. “ Now, if the shack 

were on the other side 

But it wouldn’t be built on the other side,” 
interrupted Leslie. No cabin builder would do 
such a thing unless he built when he first struck 
this country as young and green as we were 1 ” 
Ross laughed and started the branch he had 
trimmed down the mountainside on the crust. It 
skidded along rapidly until it wedged itself into a 
great snow bank which had drifted from the shack 
to the trees on either side, and through which the 
boys had tunneled. With the last branch sent 
home in this convenient fashion, Ross shouldered 
the axe and picked up the saw, while Leslie took 
the gun from a near-by branch where it had been 
slung, and followed down the mountainside. 

With the increase in the depth of the snow, the 
coyotes and gray wolves had grown bolder, and 
without the gun the boys never went now outside 
of their dooryard, as they called the spaces they 
342 


TENDERFOOT 


had cleared around the shack. So far, however, 
the coyotes had only skulked near the strongly 
built lean-to, attracted by the smell of the meat, 
while the wolves contented themselves by howling 
at night from the rocks far above the cabin, and 
being answered from the mountainside opposite. 

I have always heard that the gray wolf is a 
coward,*^ commented Leslie as the two entered the 
shack. We have not had a glimpse of one yet.^^ 
Uncle Jake said they are far more afraid of 
people than sensible people are afraid of them,^’ re- 
turned Ross, but I^d rather not be called sensible 
than to meet one face to face ! ” 

That night the bo3^s turned in early, tired with 
their exertions at the wood-pile. About midnight 
they were both awakened by a mysterious noise. 
Leslie, in the wall bunk, came up on his elbow 
before he was fairly awake. Ross, on the floor, 
sat up instantly, whispering sharply : 

Leslie, is that you ? ” 

'' What ? asked Leslie bewildered. '' Is it you ? 
What was that? ” 

Before Ross could reply again, the noise was re- 
peated. It came from above their heads, a soft 
padding and crunching on the roof logs. Sud- 
denly there was added a whining sound and a 
scratching at the side and then an increase in the 
crunching on the roof. 


343 


ROSS GRANT 

** Wolves I cried Ross and Leslie simultane- 
ously. 

“They smell the meat in the lean-to/' added 
Leslie. 

“ Tell you what, Less,” said Ross, “ I'm glad 
we’re inside a stockade. I'll put my trust in 
logs rather than boards with those fellows 
around.” 

Ross's voice was decidedly husky, Leslie was 
glad to note. His own was almost beyond con- 
trol while cold chills ran up and down his spine. 
He grunted assent and tried to yawn aloud but 
was unsuccessful. 

Then, as the soft padding and eager sniffing 
continued, he found his voice in a frightened 
quaver, “ Ross, can they get into the window, do 
you think? '' 

“ Or break into the door ? '' added Ross equally 
uncertain as to tone. “ One thing I know. Less, 
they're afraid of fire.” 

At that both boys came out of their bunks and 
began to fill the stove with wood. But at these 
sounds from below, the wolves departed hastily 
and put in the remainder of the night howling 
from the side of the mountain a safe distance 
away. 

“ Guess Uncle Jake is right. They seem as 
afraid of us as we are of them I ” exclaimed 
344 


TENDERFOOT 


Leslie, lighting a candle and setting it in the 
window. Then he turned on Ross with a sheepish 
grin. “ Say, Doc, is my hair standing straight up ? 

Ross passed his hand over his own. ** I don^t 
see it stand, but if it feels like mine it won^t lie 
down again in a week. To-morrow, Less, we^ll 
let studies go by the board and have that window 
and the door barricaded. Then, if a wolf or two 
chance to stumble against them we can turn over 
and laugh in our sleep.^^ 

There was no more sleep in the shack that 
night, however, and before daylight the boys were 
up planning the proposed barricade. They finally 
hit on two cross poles for the door, fitted into 
crudely carved stanchions nailed to either side. 
These bars were removed by day, but when night 
came, it was with a feeling of relief that the boys 
dropped the bars into their stanchions and knew 
the device could foil any wolf that prowled about 
the mountains. The window, also, was similarly 
barricaded. 

But, secure behind these protections, the boys 
soon became accustomed to their midnight visitors, 
and even began to look eagerly for them during 
the day, Leslie being a fair shot. 

“ I would like to get a skin or two, Ross,'^ he 
said one evening. Sue would like 'em as rugs, 
you bet I " 


345 


ROSS GRANT 


It was after supper, and the boys, having washed 
the dishes, had blown out the candle and were sit- 
ting beside the stove. The draft in front was open, 
and the blazing chunks within sent a cheerful 
glow dancing past the window and flickering on 
the bunk and the side wall beyond. Outside, the 
wind soughed among the branches of the seven 
spruces, whipping them savagely. It was densely 
dark, darker than it would be an hour later when 
the moon swung over the tops of the mountain 
opposite the shack. There had been no storm for 
several days, but severe cold, so that on top of a 
strong crust a light snow drifted about contin- 
ually. 

I^m satisfied to leave the skin on the brutes if 
theyfll agree to leave mine on me ! laughed Ross 
in answer to Leslie. Guess you^re a better sport, 
Less, than I am.^^ 

Leslie shook his head. Aw, I’m no sport,” he 
disclaimed in a pleased tone. If I ever think I 
am I shall remember the first night the wolves 
came.” 

He was rubbing his head reminiscently when, 
suddenly, there came an unexpected sound from 
the neighborhood of the window. There was a 
thump against the outer logs, followed by the 
splinter of glass and the inward rush of cold air. 
This was immediately succeeded by a hasty scrap- 
346 


TENDERFOOT 


ing noise in the midst of which Leslie sprang to 
his feet shouting : 

Wolves ! Quick, Ross, the door I 
While Leslie sprang to the gun hung on pegs 
against the logs near the door, Ross fumbled at the 
door fastenings and, in a moment, both boys were 
out in front in the clearing that they had shoveled 
in front of the door and window. The sound was 
rapidly retreating down the side of the slope 
toward the seven spruces. Eagerly the boys ran 
toward the spruces, which, in the darkness, merely 
made a darker spot below them. From the midst 
of the trees came the scratching sound on the 
crust. Throwing the gun to his shoulder Leslie 
excitedly fired again and again in the direction of 
the rapidly receding sounds. 

There ! he exclaimed when the chambers of 
the gun were emptied. Of course I havenT hit 
anything, but I have the satisfaction of knowing 
Fve shot at a wolf, at least ! ” 


347 


CHAPTER XVIII 


A HUMILIATING DISCOVERY 

Returning to the cabin, the boys excitedly split 
up a box and, binding the dry splinters together, 
thrust one end into the stove. A moment later, 
Ross, brandishing this improvised torch, and fol- 
lowed by Leslie, bearing the gun in hands none 
too steady, ran down to the seven spruces. 

This group of trees, full grown and broad 
limbed, interlocked their branches at the foot of 
the mountain in the path of the high winds which 
roared through the canon as through a funnel be- 
tween the high mountains. The trunks formed a 
windbreak for the storms that left their load of 
snow heaped to the branches on the upper side at 
the expense of the lower side where the crust was 
swept as clear of loose snow as though by a broom. 

Here, in the shadow of these trees, Leslie, de- 
spite his earnest protest to the contrary, half ex- 
pected to see a wolf dead or wounded, but no wolf 
appeared. Lowering the torch, the boys made 
their way warily around the trees and the drifts 
heaped to leeward. The pile of snow had not 
been disturbed, nor did they discover any tracks. 
348 


TENDERFOOT 


Less, I^m not satisfied,” exclaimed Ross finally. 
^‘Something broke that window and something 
ran down here. There^s enough loose snow over 

this crust to show traces if ” 

Here the speaker hastily interposed his body be- 
tween a gust of wind and the flaring torch. 

That’s true,” asserted Leslie, but the snow is 
so light that this wind has probably moved every 
particle of it since that window was broken, and 
this crust is too hard to show a track.” 

Ross uttered a sudden exclamation and plunged 
forward, the torch’s head flaming against the crust. 
“ Quick, Less, see here ! ” 

Leslie sprang forward and bent over the torch. 
Blood ! ” he shouted. “ I did hit him for sure I 
There is a — no, see here, Ross, here are some more 
drops, a neat little collection ! ^ I must have hit 
hard. Oh, we can track him now easily I ” 

The telltale drops were scattered on the glisten- 
ing face of the crust just below the trees. There 
was one splash of red and a few inches further 
along scattering drops. Sweeping the crust with 
the torch the boys cautiously crossed the canon 
taking care to test the crust with the heels of their 
shoes as they advanced. But, to their disappoint- 
ment, no more blood appeared, and no further 
signs of life. Slowly they zigzagged back and 
forth, searching and listening, but to no purpose. 

349 


ROSS GRANT 


He got away all right,” said Leslie in a voice 
of deep chagrin. '' Guesfe, after all, I must only 
have scratched him.” 

Yes, but it’s queer that a scratch would have 
produced that much blood and not another drop,” 
returned Ross puzzled. Such a wound would 
keep on bleeding for a few moments at least. We 
ought to find more traces right around here.” 

Convinced of the soundness of this reasoning, 
Leslie urged another search. Stopping long 
enough to make a fresh torch they returned to the 
blood spots and with them as a center carefully 
enlarged the circle of their search until they had 
again covered the surface, inch by inch, for yards 
around. 

‘‘ He must have stopped and licked the wound 
clean right here and then streaked it for the 
mountains,” said Leslie at last. 

Ross shook his head obstinately. “ I don’t 
believe it. With your shots pattering around him 
he’d likely streak it for the mountains and attend 
to his wounds later — only in that case there would 
be more blood.” 

Discouraged and cold, the searchers returned to 
the cabin. Nailing a box cover over the window, 
and barring the door again, they went to bed. 

The following morning dawned bright and still 
in the Canon of the Seven Spruces as the boys had 
350 


TENDERFOOT 


named their home. Tired out with the excitement 
and exertion of the previous night they overslept, 
and not until the sun had appeared above the 
eastern peaks were they ready for a further ex- 
amination of the neighborhood of the blood spots. 
They searched as they had the previous evening 
and with no better results, until noon. Then the 
unexpected happened ! 

They had given up the hunt disgustedly and 
were returning to the shack for dinner, when 
passing to windward of the seven spruces, Leslie 
chanced to pause beside the trunk of the outermost 
sentinel in the group. Ross, in advance, turned 
and, simultaneously, the gaze of both boys fell on 
another evidence that Leslie’s gun had drawn 
blood the night before. Half of each tree trunk 
was covered with snow and on the white envelope 
of the spruce beside which they stood appeared 
four red streaks lying parallel and a couple of 
inches away around the curve of the trunk a faint 
red blotch. The second of the four streaks con- 
tained the deepest stain. 

“ I say, Ross ! ” cried Leslie. 

Less, here you are again I ” ejaculated Ross. 

For an instant they both stared at the tree trunk 
motionless. Then Ross, with a sudden narrowing 
of his eyes and upward tilt of his square chin, 
strode forward, drew off his mitten and extended 

351 


ROSS GRANT 


his arm. The marks were shoulder high. Leslie 
gave an exclamation as Ross grasped the trunk, 
his four fingers covering the four streaks of blood, 
his thumb pressed on the fainter blotch. Then 
his hand fell to his side. 

A man I gasped Leslie. His face turned 
white. Ross, did I shoot a man ? 

‘‘That would account for things,^^ said Ross 
slowly. He looked back. Only a few feet in- 
tervened between the tree and the blood on the 
crust. “ If you hurt his hand — and he steadied 
himself here at this tree, and then ran on — perhaps 
before he realized that he was hurt — and then 
staunched the flow in his mittens or on his clothes 
— anywhere 

“ It was Sandy 1 exclaimed Leslie. His voice 
was weak, also his knees. 

“ Or Weston,'^ added Ross and scowled. 

“ He — they were looking in the window 

began Leslie. 

“ And slipped and fell against the glass,^^ added 
Ross. 

Only one more proof was needed to convince 
them that Leslie had drawn human blood, and 
that proof they found where they had not thought 
to look previously — beneath the window. There, 
in the loose snow blown against the side of the 
shack, was the blurred impression of a snow-shoe. 
352 


TENDERFOOT 


** I believe,” said Ross with conviction that 
night as they sat beside the fire with their door 
barred and the window securely shuttered, ** I 
believe. Less, that it was Sandy and perhaps Way- 
mart, coming to see if Weston had done his duty by 
us.” 

But where did they come from ? ” questioned 
Leslie. “ Where are we ? Can they get over to 
Meadow Creek and from there here ? Or is there 
another way of getting here ? ” 

It was months before that persistent question 
was answered, months of a dull routine wherein 
the boys turned with more and more zeal to their 
studies. Nights now, behind their barred door 
and shuttered window, they listened, not for wolves, 
but for the return of their human caller, but he 
did not come again. Day after day they looked 
sharply for prints of snow-shoes, but looked in 
vain. Gradually as the spring advanced, the 
wolves and coyotes retreated until the boys no 
longer carried the gun on their wood-cutting ex- 
cursions. 

I guess Sue will not see a wolf skin this year,” 
Leslie complained in March. ** Even in that I 
have failed.” 

Ross, standing over the stove frying bacon, 
glanced over his shoulder. Brace up. Less,” he 
gibed. There’s one thing you haven’t failed in, 
353 


ROSS GRANT 


nor I either. We’ve got outside of more anatomy 

and physiology and ” 

“That’s so,” Leslie interrupted brightening. 
“ I’ve found out what I want to do — after I’ve made 
my peace with father,” soberly. “ I guess he’ll 
not make any objections to a doctor in the family. 
It strikes me,” lugubriously, “ that he’ll be 
pleased to find out that I want to be anything ! ” 
March gave place to April, finally ; but in the 
mountains April showers do not have the effect 
they are popularly supposed to have elsewhere, 
the showers being great downfalls of snow alter- 
nating with thaws which threatened to turn the 
entire canon into a river and brought to their ears 
daily the thunder of the snowslides. By the first 
of May the tops of the tallest willows began to 
appear, but the boys knew that the roots would 
not be visible for six weeks yet, so long does winter 
linger among the Shoshones. On the mountain- 
side above timber-line bowlders began to push 
aside their dense white covering. 

But with the softening of the great body of 
snow, the inhabitants of the canon became more 
closely confined than ever. It was well that the 
hot sun did away with the necessity for a fire 
during the day, because the boys were able to cut 
and shovel their way only to the nearest trees. 

“ Things are getting worse instead of better,” 
354 


TENDERFOOT 

said Leslie gloomily one day when May was two 
weeks old. 

The boys sat in the doorway in the red glow of 
a warm sunset. At their feet, only a few yards 
away, the narrow canon was transformed into a 
river choked with ice and snow and mud flowing 
sluggishly among the willows. For weeks the 
boys had looked in vain for the subsidence of the 
water. On the steep slope of the mountain oppo- 
site lay a mass of wet heavy snow waiting for its 
turn to come to plunge into the canon. 

Ross, his eyes on this slope, gave a rueful laugh. 
‘‘ Less, if only we had such a charge of dynamite 
now as we set off under Soapweed Ledge we might 
have a little fun across there.^' 

Fun ! echoed Leslie miserably. Never con- 
nect that piece of foolishness with the word ^ fun.’ 
If it hadn’t been for that shot we probably would 
have been in Meadow Creek Valley now hard at 
work.” 

Ross gazed gloomily up the river-like canon. 
He wondered whether the trail from Miners’ Camp 
to Meadow Creek was clear yet, and whether the 
McKenzies had returned to the valley ; for in three 
weeks Weimer’s fifth year of work on the claims 
would close. He chafed with impatience at the 
delay necessitated by that slowly moving stream. 
With the canon clear, the boys had determined 
355 


ROSS GRANT 


to start out and follow its windings until they 
came to — Somewhere. 

Late one afternoon of that same week Ross sat 
studying beneath the window while Leslie was out 
trying to force a path to a fine spruce tree that 
promised good fire-wood. The sun had long since 
hidden his face behind the mountain against which 
the cabin rested, but his rays turned the snow on 
the peaks opposite to gold. The day had been 
warm. The door stood open, and the fire was 
almost out. Near the doorway, and only a few feet 
from a solid bank of ice, blossomed a profusion of 
forget-me-nots and yellow wild asters. The breeze 
which rocked their petals was the breeze of 
summer that, nevertheless, carried the tang of the 
ice and snow over which it passed. 

Suddenly Ross, deep in his book, heard a sound, 
the crunching of the pine cones and boughs with 
which the ground was strewn. A moment later a 
shadow moved across his book. He sprang to his 
feet, the book falling to the floor, and confronted 
a man in the doorway. 

The man was middle-aged, large, and stoop- 
shouldered. His face was burned and bearded 
and furrowed, but astonishment was stamped on 
every feature and furrow. 

“ Hello ! '' he greeted Ross, as one familiar with 
hie surroundings greets a stranger. 

356 


TENDERFOOT 


He stepped inside with that air of assurance 
which proclaims ownership. His eyes left Ross, 
and swept the shack. 

What he began, and suddenly stopped, 

his gaze traveling back curiously to the boy. 

What he began again, but got no further. 

Ross was the first one to complete a question, 
and it was an eager one. 

Where did you come from ? 

‘‘Cody,'^ returned the stranger, reciprocating 
with And you ? 

Meadow Creek.^^ 

Meadow Creek ! in surprise. ** Is the trail 
open now ? ’’ 

Ross shook his head. I don’t know. I came 
last January.” 

‘‘ January ! ” The stranger stared, and stuffed 
his hands into his pockets. “ Do ye mean t’ tell 
me ye’ve been here sence January? ” 

‘‘ Ever since then.” 

Briefly but excitedly Ross told the story of his 
coming. 

The stranger, listening, leaned back against the 
door-post. Successively he removed his cap, 
scratched his head, and contracted his bushy 
eyebrows. When Ross finished he was grinning 
in grim humor. 

Young man,” he began slowly, this here is 
357 


ROSS GRANT 


Wood River canon. Ye’re only seven miles from 
Miners’ Camp. Ye could ’a’ hoofed it down t’ 
Gale’s Ridge in two hours on top of any crust that 
would ’a’ held ye up.” 

Stepping to the door Ross raised a chagrined 
voice, “ Leslie, ho. Less ! Come here I ” 

The boy’s unexpected and welcome visitor was 
Terry Brown, the owner of several adjacent coal 
claims. He had gone out of the mountains the 
first of December, his preparations for departure 
consisting merely in closing the door of his shack. 
He had expected to open it in June on the same 
furnishings and provisions which he had left. 

I see how it was,” Brown began as the three 
talked things over that evening. That ’ere 
Weston waits fer a storm a-purpose. Then he 
takes ye a pretty chase around and up and among 
them little peaks over at the head waters of Meadow 
Creek until he gits ye so mixed up that ye don’t 
know east from west. Then he slides ye over the 
cliff, and lands ye in here; and you, thinkin’ 
ye’re miles away from ye don’t know where, with 
a heap o’ danger spots between ye and anywheres, 
jest naturally sets down here and behaves yerself 
It was the only sensible thing to do,” added Brown 
approvingly. 

“ But in the face of the facts it doesn’t look 
sensible now I ” Ross burst out. 

358 


TENDERFOOT 



359 


ROSS GRANT 


“ No/^ meditatively, ‘‘ but without knowin’ any 
of the facts, and with no way t' know 'em, you 
acted with sense, plain hoss sense. But that 'ere 
Weston, he sure done you dirt, all right." 

Ross's fists doubled involuntarily. Seeing this, 
Brown's voice changed. 

Better fergit it, son. Chuck the hull matter. 
Ye've lost and they've won ; and, if what I hear 
of the McKenzies is true, it won't do ye no good t' 
keep thinkin' of this. And when ye git down t' 
Camp I wouldn't tell the first man I seen about 
this, nuther " 

Because," Leslie broke in hotly, “ they'd 
laugh at us for staying here so near Camp all 
winter." 

Brown made no reply, but a slow grin expressed 
his opinion. 

“ I say. Less," Ross broke out, “ we don't look 
any bigger to ourselves than we did when we 
found out what that blast under the Ledge had 
done for us, do we ? " 

But Leslie did not hear. He sat with his elbows 
on his knees scowling down at the fioor. “ If we're 
that near Camp," he reasoned, it was surely one 
of the McKenzies that came up to see if we were 
here yet that night that I fired. He chose a night, 
you remember, when the snow was light and the 
crust icy. No tracks left for us to follow." 

3bo 


TENDERFOOT 


Their visitor asked for no explanation to this. 
He was studying Ross’s face intently as the boy 
sat leaning forward, his hands clasped around his 
knees. 

“ I say I ” the older man broke out suddenly. 
** Ye look almighty like a feller that rode up in 
the stage from Meeteetse yisterday — almighty like 
’im. They was two of ’em. They got out at 
Amos Steele’s.” 

Where did they come from ? ” asked Ross 
absently. 

** I dunno. Sheepy Luther said they was East- 
erners.” 

** Sheepy Luther ! ” exclaimed Ross. ** I know 
Sheepy. His wagon set on the hill just back 
of the stage camp when I was there with 
Weston.” 

Is that so ? Wall, Sheepy is down on his 
luck. He’s too old t’ cha^e sheep, and last winter 
he lost five hundred or thereabouts ; so he got his 
walkin’ papers. He come up yisterday. Stopped 
at Steele’s t’ try t’ git a job with the Gale’s Ridge 
Company. Steele may take ’im on to wrangle the 
bosses, but he can’t do more’n a boy’s work. He’s 
done fer ; only he don’t know it.” 

In the pause which followed Brown again 
studied Ross. “ This feller,” he began again 
suddenly, was a bigger man than ye be ; but 
361 


ROSS GRANT 


I vum, ye’re alike even t’ the way ye squint up 
yer eyes and mouth, ’n’ ” 

Ross came to his feet alertly, his interest at last 
aroused. 

“ His name ? ” he demanded eagerly. 

Brown shook his head. “ Didn’t hear no names 
except the front ones. They called each other 
cross’ ’n’ ^Fred.’” 

** Uncle Fred and father ! ” shouted Ross ex- 
citedly. ^^They came up yesterday, you say, 
and stopped at Gale’s Ridge I ” 


362 


CHAPTER XIX 


AN UNEXPECTED VICTORY 

The boy's first feeling of joy was immediately 
succeeded by a deep chagrin. Probably his father 
had come on to complete the legal process for se- 
curing a clear title to the claims, and had brought 
Dr. Grant with him, and Ross must confront them 
with news of failure rather than victory. He 
winced when he thought of the expression of 
disappointment which he felt sure would sweep 
over his father's face, especially when his father 
learned that the way to failure had lain in part 
through the boy's exercise of his medical knowl- 
edge. 

'' There's my snow-shoes," he heard Brown say- 
ing, and the words brought him out of his reverie 
back to the present at once. '' To-morrer ye bet- 
ter hoof it down t' Camp and meet up with yer re- 
lation." 

That's right, Ross," urged Leslie. I'll stay 
here until you can bring more shoes back. In that 
case," cheerfully, you see I'll get the better bar- 

363 


ROSS QRANT 


gain because you^ll have to take the brunt 

he paused abruptly. 

Yes, the brunt of the ridicule, added Ross 
grimly. We may as well look the thing squarely 
in the face. I’m pretty hot inside, and I shall 
probably boil over at sight of the McKenzies, but 
— they’ve made us ridiculous instead of laying 
themselves open to prosecution.” 

“ Except Weston,” Leslie burst out significantly. 
‘‘ Wait till I get hold of father I ” 

According to the plans laid, Ross set out the fol- 
lowing morning on the snow-shoes. Following 
Brown’s directions, to keep to the side of the moun- 
tain, he threaded the windings of the canon on re- 
luctant feet, past the cliff whose dark face mocked 
him, over the treacherous rotting ice and packed 
snow, and finally emerged into the broader portion 
of the canon which contained Miners’ Camp. 

The cabins, deserted the previous December, were 
inhabited again. The sound of the woodchopper 
was in the air ; and, as Ross came into Camp, a 
dull reverberating boom from the heart of Dundee 
told that the Mountain Company’s mining opera- 
tions were resumed. 

But so intent was he on the thought of meeting 
his father and uncle that these sights and sounds 
did not fill him with the joy he had imagined they 
would give. He even failed to notice a man stand- 
364 


TENDERFOOT 


ing in the doorway of a shack, scanning Crosby, 
on whose steep face the snow still hung in loosen- 
ing masses. 

Toward the shack came Bill Travers, the stage- 
driver between Meeteetse and Miners' Camp. 

Wall, beat me," cried the man in the doorway, 
** if here ain't Doc 1 " 

Ross flashed around and faced Sandy McKenzie. 

Sandy's hands were rammed into his pockets ; 
but his sunburned face was smiling an unruffled 
welcome, and his voice rang pleasantly. 

“ How," Sandy inquired, did ye get over here 
from Medder Creek ? " 

Ross instantly boiled over " as he had feared he 
should, and said the very thing he had not in- 
tended to say. You know how I got here I You 
know where I came from ! " 

The stage-driver, joined by a second man, came 
nearer and paused. Sandy pushed his hands yet 
deeper into his pockets, and looked amazingly in- 
nocent. 

“ Me I " he drawled. ** What d'ye mean ? " 

At the insolent tone Ross's blood boiled. It 
hummed through his ears, deafening him to the 
sound of his own voice. What he said he never 
could recall beyond the general knowledge that he 
accused Sandy of the theft of the dynamite and of 
his own and Leslie's abduction across the mountains. 
365 


ROSS GRANT 


And, when he paused to catch his breath and 
steady his voice, Sandy was looking him over with 
an amused grin which maddened him. 

Now, ain’t that a likely story ? ” he inquired. 

Kept ye a prisoner fer six months not five miles 
from Camp on a trail that can be follered at any 
time in the year ! Ha, ha ! ” 

Bill Travers grinned faintly. The other man 
turned away with the corners of his mouth twitch- 
ing, while Sandy went on : 

And as fer Weston, he went to Missoury the 
day after we left Medder Creek, and there he is 
now fer all I’ve heard.” Again Sandy’s laugh 
rang out as he added : That story won’t hold 

water. Why didn’t ye make up a ” 

Here Way mart appeared in the doorway of the 
shack. He scowled at Ross, but his peremptory 
words were aimed at Sandy : 

“ See here I If we’re goin’ t’ send that bundle 
down by Grasshopper we’ve got t’ make lively 
tracks in here, and ye ought t’ know it I ” 

Keep yer hair on tight. Mart,” laughed Sandy. 
He turned, nevertheless, toward the door. As 
he did so, he mechanically withdrew his hands 
from his pockets and Ross saw something which 
at once arrested his attention. The middle finger 
of Sandy’s right hand was gone ! In a fiash, mem- 
ory showed Ross the four blood streaks on the 
366 



'S'OU’VE PAID FOR IT 


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TENDERFOOT 


trunk of the spruce with the second streak the 
deepest in color. 

With his anger still burning he snatched off his 
glove and held up his right hand triumphantly, 
the middle finger projecting. Well, anyway,^^ 
he cried, Leslie ain’t a bad shot. We may never 
prove that you put us in that hole, but you’ve 
paid for it, nevertheless I ” 

Sandy involuntarily doubled his right hand into 
a fist. He caught his under lip between his teeth 
and sent Ross a black look as, wordlessly, he en- 
tered the shack and slammed the door behind him, 
leaving Ross to tell the story of Leslie’s shot to two 
interested and excited men. 

That accounts fer it,” confirmed Bill Travers. 
** Sandy and Waymart they come up from Cody 
along in February and when they dumb inf th’ 
stage goin’ back, Sandy’s hand was tied up. Next 
thing I knowed when they come up with me 
t’other day, that finger was off clean to the hand, 
but Sandy hain’t never spoken of it.” 

Ross, leaving Bill to talk the matter over with 
his companions, went on rapidly now down the 
canon, his eyes narrowed and his chin protruding 
doggedly. One disagreeable scene was ended, and 
he was, perhaps, facing another. 

I ought to be sorry that Sandy lost a finger 
but — hanged if I am I ” he burst out loud. He 
367 


ROSS GRANT 

was anxious to have Leslie know the result of his 
random shot. 

Rounding a shoulder of Gale^s Ridge, he came 
in sight of Steele^s shack. Steele sat in the door- 
way. Beside him, leaning against the logs of the 
shack^s side, was a man in shirt-sleeves and cap, 
beneath which a rim of woolly gray hair pro- 
jected. 

Facing Steele were two well dressed men, one in 
a tall silk hat, which appeared incongruous against 
its background of log shack and pine tree. 

Ross, with narrowed eyes and compressed lips, 
plodded on. 

IVe done my best,^* he muttered defensively. 

IVs all a fellow can do ; but, when that best is 
failure, why, it's not much consolation." 

Then he raised his head, squared his shoulders, 
and doggedly faced the four in front of Steele's 
cabin. 

Ross Grant, Senior, had not come West to look 
after his claims, but after his son, with whom he 
felt he had but just begun an acquaintance. He 
had no difficulty in getting Dr. Grant to accom- 
pany him, reenforced as he was by an anxious 
Aunt Anne. It was true that both Ross and Steele 
had written that all communications with the 
former would be shut off for months. But, when 
the hot days of June came and brought no letter 
368 


TENDERFOOT 

from the boy, as Aunt Anne said, ‘‘ something must 
be done/^ 

That something was represented in the persons 
of the Grant brothers in Miners^ Camp. 

After the first greetings, tinged with amazement 
on the part of the four, Ross backed up against a 
spruce, and, facing the others, proceeded to answer 
the questions with which they bombarded him. 

In half an hour they were in possession of the 
main facts in his life during the last six months. 

The McKenzies all through,’’ commented 
Steele finally ; “ but — prove it ! ” 

“ I’ve got to prove it I ” declared Ross violently ; 
“ I shall ! ” 

** Ross,” — Dr. Grant’s comment carried with it 
the pride and honor of his profession, — if you’re 
called upon to attend the sick, you must go. 
That’s the duty of a physician, even before he re- 
ceives his diploma. You did right.” 

** I felt that way myself, uncle,” returned Ross 
quietly. ‘‘ As soon as Weimer opened the way, I 
never thought of not going, so long as there was no 
regular doctor within reach.” 

Ross Grant, Senior, looked his son over. There 
was no expression of disapproval on his face as he 
took the measure of this full-blooded, broad-shoul- 
dered, erect young man whose muscles had been 
hardened by wind and sun and work in the open 

369 


ROSS GRANT 


Having completed his survey, Ross, Senior, 
smiled. “Well, my boy,'’ he remarked character- 
istically, “ it took three good sized men to down 
you two boys, didn't it ? And it must have cost 
them a heap of thinking into the bargain. Shake, 
Ross ; I'm proud of you I " 

And Ross, bewildered, shook hands with his 
father, his cheeks reddening with pleasure. 

“ I — I never thought of it in that way before," 
he stammered. “ But — that doesn't save the 
claims, and the fifth year is up next week, and 
Uncle Jake " 

“ Don't you worry about Uncle Jake," inter- 
rupted his father meaningly. “ We may lose the 
claims, but Uncle Jake will be provided for." 

“ The first thing to do," interpolated Steele, “ is 
to root him out of Meadow Creek Valley. I've 
never known the snow to hang so late to the side 
of Crosby." 

That very night it ceased to “ hang." At mid- 
night every one in the shack was awakened. 
There was a cracking of trees, a long steady rush, 
and then a mighty and prolonged roar as the 
snow, under the infiuence of a swift warm wind, 
swept down the side of old Crosby, and took the 
thousand-feet plunge into the ravine at the foot of 
the falls. The roar echoed against the sides of 
Dundee and Spar and Sniffle, starting other 
370 


TENDERFOOT 


though lesser slides until the canon was filled with 
the confusion of sound. 

The following morning, Steele, after investiga- 
tion, found the trail around the shoulder of 
Crosby swept clean, and at once proposed that 
they follow it to Meadow Creek. Ross objected 
to starting until Leslie reached them. Steele had 
sent Society Bill up the canon the previous even- 
ing with snow-shoes for the boy. But neither 
Society Bill nor Leslie had appeared. Ross's ob- 
jections were, therefore, overruled by the older 
men. 

“ Leave word in the upper camp for him to 
follow us when he comes," Steele suggested, “ and 
we’ll start right away. We shall have to foot it, 
too, for no horse can make it yet." 

The sheep-herder, who had shared Steele’s hospi- 
tality over night, shouldered his blankets, observ- 
ing that he was going over with them to see his 
friend Weimer, and find out what was doin’ on 
the Creek." 

There were others of the same mind also, as the 
party from Steele’s shack found when they reached 
the foot of Crosby. Just ahead of them, so en- 
grossed in their climbing that they did not look 
back, were Sandy and Waymart. 

Slowly, to accommodate the older Grants, the 
party moved up the trail, slippery with mud 

371 


ROSS GRANT 

and snow, their way obstructed by rocks and 
tree trunks. 

Sandy and Way mart, ahead, were obliged to 
move slowly also ; for to their lot fell the re- 
moval of any obstacles too large to surmount, 
and the snow and landslide of the previous night 
had left many such. Around the shoulder, how- 
ever, the trail was intact, the mountain being so 
steep at this point that the slide had leaped clear 
of the trail and projected itself headlong into the 
gorge below. 

An hour later Ross called back to his father 
and uncle, who were puffing along, breathless 
and tired and dizzy : “ Well be in sight of the 
dump in ten minutes. It’s just around the spur 
of the mountain there.” 

Then, unable to restrain his impatience and 
anxiety longer, he ran on ahead of Steele, keep- 
ing a short distance between himself and the 
McKenzies. The McKenzies, however, seemed 
no more anxious to enjoy his society than he 
did to enjoy theirs. Sandy, for once, omitted 
his usual pleasantries, an omission easy to ac- 
count for whenever Ross thought of the missing 
middle finger of his right hand. 

Hearing footsteps behind him, Ross glanced 
around. Steele had left the others, and was 
following on a run. The McKenzies pushed 
372 


TENDERFOOT 

on without looking back, and neither Steele nor 
Ross spoke. 

In silence, then, the four approached the spur. 
But before they reached the dump that silence 
was most unexpectedly broken. Out of the open 
mouth of the tunnel rolled a volume of sound, 
then another and another. 

Ross in his surprise, his head thrown back as he 
scanned the dump, nearly fell over a mass of newly 
mined ore which blocked the main trail. 

Then he caught a glimpse of Weimer shielding 
his eyes from the sun with both hands, waiting for 
the effects of the explosions in the tunnel to sub- 
side. And, leaning against the tool house, his 
hands in his pockets, his head bent forward, was 
another man, the sight of whom caused a great 
illumination in Ross's mind. 

Weston ! " he shouted. Weston ! " 

The two men on the dump came to the edge, 
and looked over. The McKenzies on the trail 
ahead halted. The Grants with the sheep-herder 
drew nearer. 

Weimer, squinting, recognized Ross. He took 
off his cap, and waved it as wildly as a boy. 

The vork," he yelled, “ ist done ! It ist done 
dese two veeks. Me und Miller here, ve ist vorkin' 
now joost for de fun ! " 

Weston gave one glance at Sandy and Way- 
373 


ROSS GRANT 

mart, and without speaking went back to the 
tunnel. 

Ross was after him with a bound, scrambling up 
over the dump, followed by the others, who were 
infected by his excitement. He ran to Weston 
with both hands outstretched. 

Weston,'^ lie shouted, '' you did this ! 

Veston ! ” exclaimed Uncle Jake. Dot ist 
Miller. He has been mit me all der spring.’^ 

“ I told him,^^ muttered Weston, extending his 
hand to Ross, but turning away shamefacedly, 
“ that you two boys had taken my place with my 
sick pard, while I was to stay by him.’^ 

Ross pumped the big hand up and down. 

Father,” he cried excitedly, he has saved our 
claims.” 

Weston tried to liberate his hand. He stole a 
glance at Sandy and Waymart, who had stopped 
just beyond the dump. 

Doc here ” — he spoke to the group who sur- 
rounded him — saved me first. I had that little 
business to pay for, but” — his tone sank to a 
mutter — “ I thought I could pay it and git away 
to Missoury before Sandy found out what I was 
up to here ” 

He was interrupted by Sandy^s voice from the 
trail, and the voice was harsh and vengeful. 
“ Better come over to our shack, Lon. I want a 
374 


TENDERFOOT 


little talk with ye about old man Quinn. He^s 
wantin’ t’ see ye powerful bad.” 

At the name the sheep-herder, who had been 
standing stupidly staring at Weston, woke up. 

Old man Quinn,” he began. A feller in Cody 

told me ” but no one was paying any attention 

to him. 

Sandy and Waymart moved on slowly toward 
their cabin, talking and gesticulating excitedly, 
evidently in disagreement. 

For the present no one undeceived Weimer in 
regard to Miller. 

“ He come pack in all dot storm,” Weimer ex- 
ulted, und mit me vas.” 

Weston looked away, but Steele cried, Good 
work, man,” clapping him warmly on the shoulder. 
Then he added boyishly : “ I’m hungry as a bear I 
Got any grub left ? ” 

Yes,” answered Weston quietly, plenty. 
Come on down all of you, and I’ll rustle some 
flapjacks and coffee.” 

They started down the trail, Weston and Ross 
in advance. At the mention of “ old man Quinn ” 
Ross’s elation had subsided. He looked at Wes- 
ton out of the corner of his eye. The other’s eyes 
were downcast and his face pale beneath its sun- 
burn. His hair was of a peculiar color, light at 
the roots and dark at the ends. He had evi- 
375 


ROSS GRANT 

dently forgotten to bring his hair dye to Meadow 
Creek. 

The older man spoke first. His voice was low 
and his words halting. I had to take you across 
the mountain and leave you there/^ he explained 
briefly. Sandy was behind the cabin when we 
got there. I couldnT fool Tm about you, but I 
did about myself ; and, if you all had put off 
comin^ over a day longer, I could have got away 
out of Sandy’s reach.” 

As he spoke, Weston’s hand involuntarily crept 
up to his breast pocket. It fell again, however, as 
he added in a mutter as though to himself : And 
Less — I had to take ’im over too — for my own good. 
But it’s all up now and I’ve got to face it out.” 

Just behind them came the sheep-herder, his 
thoughts reverting to a subject on which he had 
tried once to speak. Now he saw an opportunity. 

“ Ye must ’a’ known of old man Quinn then,” 
he called to Weston. Didn’t ye ? ” 

Weston stumbled. He caught himself, but the 
movement saved him from the necessity of an 
answer. 

Wall,” the sheep-herder went on, almost run- 
ning in order to keep up with the pace Weston 
had set, I met Happy in Cody t’ other day, 
and Happy said old man Quinn had pinched the 

fourth puncher that druv his sheep ” 

3;6 


TENDERFOOT 


** What ? ” shouted Weston. He swung around 
so suddenly that the sheep-herder ran full tilt 
against him. 

“ What ? Weston shouted again. He seized 
the amazed and terrified Sheepy, and held him by 
the arms in a vise that made the man wince. 
‘‘ Say that again. 

S-say what ? faltered Sheepy. 

What about the fourth ? Tell me I 

With every word Weston, his eyes ablaze, his 
lips drawn back over strong white teeth, gave the 
old sheep-herder a convulsive shake. 

W-why,’^ the old man quavered, Happy, 
he said that a feller down in Oklahomy, name of 
Burns, went and give himself up to old man 
Quinn. He said he was the feller the old man 
was after — that he was the fourth who done the 
business with the sheep. But because he owned 
up the jedge give fim only six months ” 

Weston suddenly pushed the sheep-herder from 
him, his face working convulsively. ‘'Then I 
wasn't in it I " he cried. " Sandy said I was, but 
I wasn't ! " 

Offering no further explanation to his astonished 
hearers, he turned toward the McKenzie shack on 
a run ; and for a couple of hours they saw no more 
of him. 

It was a busy time for Ross, who promptly took 
377 


ROSS GRANT 


Weston^s place ‘‘ rustling grub.” But, as he 
worked, his thoughts wonderingly circled around 
Weston’s strange actions. The fourth man was 
found and it was not Weston — yet Weston, it would 
appear, had believed himself to be the guilty 
party ! It was too deep a puzzle for Ross. As 
the boy worked he kept a watchful eye on the 
trail for Leslie. Surely the latter would come 
down to Camp that morning and receive the word 
Ross had left him at the post-office. 

Steele, who had stayed behind long enough to 
examine the tunnel, confirmed Weimer’s statement 
that more than enough work had been done to 
cover the requirements of the law. Weimer, jubi- 
lant, sat and talked to his old-time “ pard,” whose 
voice answered him, but whose satisfied gaze 
followed Ross. 

But it was to the man who had stood in the 
place of a father to him that Ross’s eyes turned 
most frequently. Dr. Grant sat, appropriately, 
on the emergency chest, looking affectionately at 
his energetic nephew. 

Suddenly Ross picked up a tin cup full of water 
from the table, and held it out at arm’s length 
toward his uncle. 

Dr. Grant smiled. All right, Ross,” he said 
quietly. 

Ross, Senior, looked from one to the other in- 
378 


TENDERFOOT 


quiringly. Ross, Junior, answered ; but he turned 
his back on his father, and spoke hesitatingly. 
“ I was showing uncle, father, that my hand is 
still steady enough to be the hand of a first class 
— surgeon.’^ 

Promptly and heartily came the unexpected 
response from the elder Grant. I^m glad of that, 
Ross, for I shall look to see you as successful in 
your profession as you have been in my business,^’ 
and he turned at once to Weimer, and went on 
speaking. 

Suppose,’^ he was saying, as long as you want 
to stay here, you get your friend ’’ — he indicated 
the sheep-herder — ‘‘to come and live with you. 
I’m going to buy out Ross’s interest in the shares, 
and I’ll look to you to keep ’em in good shape — 
you and your friend — until we get a chance to sell 
well. Of course,” he added carelessly, “ I’ll grub- 
stake you and more, both of you.” 

Sheepy’s eyes lighted, and Weimer grinned and 
slapped his knee. They were the only signs 
necessary to complete the bargain. 

After dinner, as Ross arose from the table, he 
saw Leslie hurrying down the trail. Ross went to 
meet him. 

“ Hello, Ross ! ” Leslie called in a voice which 
he tried to make matter-of-fact, but which bubbled 
over with jubilation. “ I stopped in at the post- 
379 


ROSS GRANT 


office and got your word and a letter from dad. 
It’s only a month old ! He thinks we’re mewed 
up over here, you know, working your claims. 
And he says he and Sue want me to come home 
as soon as I get this letter. He says if I’m willing 
to work he’ll give me better wages than I can get 
anywhere else I He doesn’t know yet,” here Leslie 
grinned broadly, that I want to do now the very 
thing he has fought all my life to make me do — 
go to school. That doctor business has sort of 
sunk in. But say, Ross, here’s a thing that 
bothers me.” Leslie pulled the letter from his 
pocket and read : 

‘ A few days ago I got hold of the fourth man 
that ran my sheep off into the river two years ago. 
The fellow came and gave himself up to me.’ ” 

The reader looked up tentatively. “ Ross, if it 

was Weston dad would have said ” 

Ross’s hand descended on the other’s shoulder 
in a mighty whack as he shouted : ‘‘ It isn’t Wes- 
ton. Now you listen and give me an inning on 
the talk ! ” 

For half an hour they stood outside the shack 
while Ross got his inning — Sandy’s hand, the 
work, Weston’s strange actions were all reviewed 
hurriedly and listened to excitedly. Then, seeing 
Weston approaching, the boys went inside. 

Weston crossed the valley slowly, looking down 
380 


TENDERFOOT 

at something which he held in the palm of his 
hand, something in a small gilt frame that he 
slipped into his breast pocket when he entered the 
shack. 

Completely absorbed in his own thoughts — 
cheerful thoughts too, apparently — he went directly 
to his bunk, and began gathering his few possessions 
together not noticing that the group had been 
augmented by Leslie. 

I guess, he explained abstractedly, that Vll 
go on at once — Vm going to Oklahoma and not 
Missouri. Then he looked over his shoulder at 
the sheep-herder, adding abstractedly : Waymart 
says I ain’t the fourth, and never was. He’s 
been makin’ up his mind to tell me this good 
while.” 

The blank expression on the sheep-herder’s face 
brought Weston back to a sense of his surround- 
ings. 

I forgot,” he muttered turning to Ross, who 
stood beside the bunk, that you may not know 
about this Quinn business.” 

Leslie stepped forward quickly, but paused as he 
saw Weston was oblivious of his presence. 

I know a good deal about it,” exclaimed Ross 
impulsively, and I wish I knew the rest — your 
part of it.” 

Weston leaned against the bunk, his back toward 
381 


ROSS GRANT 


the silent room, his eyes downcast. He made the 
explanation with visible reluctance. 

“ You see, Doc, I used to drink ; and when I 
had two or three glasses down, I’d go out of my 
head ; and when I had come to myself again I 
wouldn’t know a blooming thing that had hap- 
pened while I was drunk. But all the time I could 
ride straight and talk straight and shoot straight.” 

He paused to moisten his lips. Leslie came a 
step nearer. 

^‘Well,” Weston continued, ‘‘to make a long 
story short, I was foreman on a cattle ranch in 
Oklahoma two years ago. Sandy and Mart came 
around wanting a job, and I gave ’em one on the 
same ranch. Then came the big round-up at 
North Fork — and there was trouble between the 
sheep and cattle men.” 

Weston hesitated and looked down. He raised 
his hand to his breast pocket and let it fall at his 
side. 

“ The night the round-up ended most of us — 
got drunk.” 

He paused, shook himself impatiently, and hur- 
ried on : “I didn’t go with the rest intending to 
drink — but I did, what with treating and all that. 
And when I come to myself, Sandy told me I was 
one of the men who had done the job on the Quinn 
sheep. And, knowing what I am when drunk, I 

3*2 


TENDERFOOT 


believed him and cleared out with him and Mart 

over the Texas line, and ” his hand traveled 

to his hair completing the sentence. 

I see I ” exclaimed Ross excitedly ; “ and since 
then Sandy has held that over you.^^ 

Weston nodded. I was sick of drink, but I 
got sick of it too late, you see. I’d put a lasso 
round my own neck just when I most wanted to 
be free.” 

His hand again wandered toward his breast 
pocket. 

'' But now,” he added, “ I am free.” 

He lifted his head proudly and turning, was 
aware for the first time of Leslie’s presence. As 
the hands of the two met Ross strode across the 
room and began speaking loudly and at random to 
the others, leaving Sue’s lover and Sue’s brother to 
talk alone. 

Presently, however, unable to restrain the ques- 
tion longer, Ross turned again on Weston. 

Sandy stole our sticks, didn’t he?” he de- 
manded, “ and planned the whole thing to get rid 
of me?” 

Weston turned slowly back to his bunk. For a 
moment he fumbled among the blankets in silence. 
Then he faced about again resolutely. 

“ Say, Doc, you have your claims here secure, 
haven’t you, and Sandy has lost ’em ? ” 

383 


ROSS GRANT 


Yes, thanks to you/’ 

“ And you’ve got outside of enough of those 
books so you can go to college next year, eh ? ” 
Yes, again thanks to you I ” 

And,” here Weston glanced at Leslie, ** Sandy 
has dropped a finger somewhere in the game.” 

Leslie could not restrain a look of exultation. 

Yes.” 

** Well, then, let this thing drop, will you ? 
Sandy hain’t all to the bad. He’s pulled me out 
of as many holes as he’s chucked me into ; and I 
— well, I — say. Doc, call it square, will you ? ” 

Ross glanced from his father to his uncle and 
then at Steele. A glance satisfied him. Stepping 
forward, he extended his hand. 

It’s square, Weston, and I’ll let everything go 
except — I can’t forget that you’ve pulled me out 
of a pretty big hole — the worst one I ever dropped 
into.” 


The Books of this Series are: 

ROSS GRANT, TENDERFOOT 
ROSS GRANT, GOLD HUNTER 

(In press) 


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